I rise to meet you and I cry. I rise to meet you. I rise up O'Lord make me rise up to meet you, self. I touch you and I cry. I shy away and I am burned. Help me rise up O'Lord to meet you, self.
Youth I have lost you. Floating on a string of time, past. Accidentally reappearing in images created in my head. What I thought you were. What I would like to think you could have been. But Youth is gone, floating, tangibly out in space, gone.
And I cry O'Lord because you won't help me rise up to meet you, self. Because you gave me a chance in the form of another, a redemption, and I am constantly haunted by the image of him gone. You showed me goodness in the chance for me to be reborn, but I am not. I am the same with or without him, but he makes me want to be better. NOW do you see the difference? I could never grasp it before but now that I have wrote it I know it to be true.
And I cry O'Lord because I can't rise up to meet you, self. I look right at you and through you. Deep within you crawl. I crawl to you within to escape to mold out me within you who came up to the surface but for three years now submerged I within I you are. And I'm sorry. For no matter how many times I cry I can never rise up to meet you, self.
Because if I lose him I have cried a beautiful love, gone. And through the thorn the Celtic bird cries out its song of life. I will never love another like I have loved you. And I'm sorry because I always feel so small around you, so unworthy. Because I have been to the place to see just how worthless I really am. Because I know. And those that live when they wanted to die are faced with how worthless they are. And I am left to live with it, I punish myself every day just by being who I am. I can see your goodness and if I could take all your trouble away so you could never have to know it I would, because if time ever weighs down on you like it has on me I could never learn to forgive. Because I want you to never have to work or experience anymore of what you already have. There is not much life left for me to give because I starved it away, so I want to take all of your pain so you, an untouched goodness, can have that right to the pursuit of happiness.
Help me rise up O'Lord.
I give up if you are gone.