jessyca.

Take what you will, what you will, and leave. Could you kill, would you kill me? If the world was on fire and nothing was left but hope or desire? And take all that I could bring forth, is this hell? Or am I on the floor over-desperate? Hold hands streaming of blood again? And then take full weight of me, guard my dreams, figure this out, it's me on my own. Helpless, hurting, hell. Will you stay strong as you promised? Cause I'm stranded and bare. Meanness is washed up in all that I am. God, take this and all, then grace takes me to a place of the father you never had. Ripping and breaking and tearing apart. This is not heaven, this is my hell. comment.