sitting here
in lowly light
wondering what’s to come
of the the plans
the panic
the unmet goals
which feels like the sum of my life
intentions that shine
with the motivation
of a jump-started car
ending in a putt putt
of pathetic disgrace
and a car that no longer starts
waiting for that next good samaritan
that will help me a long
pump words into me
like a hype man at a rap concert
but what happens when i go home
to the reminders, the lists
the wishes and the unorganized mess
of a life that can’t seem to get organized
piles and piles
of future versions of me
more like a skinnier, richer,
more glorious me
wait what?
I mean a more holy, hard working
but still skinnier me
maybe thats what is twisted
backwards and flawed
my mental state
is more like me in a state of mental
glory to me?
should be glory to He
He who is highest
He who shines brightest
how can anything outshine the sun
or should I say the Son
but in all this impossible
He whispers in the chaos
the intentions and failures
that I am made in His image
which is better than any version of my own.
Scratch Paper 