17 and Thinking

So much has happened feelings unexplained shot, dead Clear the ROOM! Speak the silence in my heart. The silence brought by death the death of two loved ones the loved ones I scarcely knew but no tears were shed. So were they really loved ones? How can one distinctly define love? Love for family... Love for friends... Love for... those we "love". A strong like A sinful smile A deep thought Lick your lips and taste my Savior's blood trickle down His heal. His love is real. But where is He? Is He here? ... So much has happened feelings explained but we're getting nowhere. Trudging in one spot one motion toiling, working and nothing's coming to fruition. So we pray heads bowed, kneeling in sin to an unseen Power to the Man Upstairs when all along we lust, lie cheat, steal hurt just like the Man Downstairs Double-minded and unstable We rock to and fro just like Grandma's rocking chair We moan and groan until finally We break. We hit rock bottom We lend our lives to things, things we feel will give us a helping hand. Abuse, misuse over-the-counter, behind closed doors We grow, concoct, test We kill ourselves slowly until it all becomes too much and with that pill bottle, that deadly bee's sting to the head, that scratch on the wrist we contemplate. We judge and weigh the pros and cons. "How will life be without me?" Maybe better. Maybe worse. But we ache to know. So we pull the trigger and it jams. We scratch the wrist, we swallow the pills, and we wait. We wait to see what's across the murky Jordan, But our Savior comes. So we pray. Repentance in our hearts Sins on our minds Confessions on our tongues and, as the preacher and good book says, we "confess unto salvation" We believe. We believe everything's going to be just fine. We believe that we'll be alright. We believe. We believe in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. We believe in the Good News, the Great Commission. We believe. But who's to say if what we believe is real?