Jul 16, 2012

Slippery bricks

Four years ago I thought I was flying, but I was flinging myself down a well instead. One day I realised I was in a pit of nothingness. I tried to climb out, but the bricks were too slippery. I grabbed onto what I could, desperate to get out of the wet and cold. I vowed never to let my grip loosen on the bricks as I slowly climbed upward. But then I fell again. And again. And again.

They always say they're sorry, but then they come again. And you can't even put the blame on anyone except yourself. You let them.

Each time you let yourself slip you hate yourself for it. You fall all the way back to the bottom of the well. You hit yourself hard. Your bones don't break but your heart does. The cement at the bottom is hard and unforgiving, and the icy water soaks you through. Slowly, you have to get up again. Make that arduous climb back up, ten metres, fifteen metres - how high will you climb before your next fall? Your heart doesn't even have time to heal.

Lord let that be the last time. I don't want to fall anymore.

Into Your hands / I commit again

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