conscious

 
interpretating the ache I languish
touching my scars like a touchstone
reading them like brail
taking inventory of my life
with visions of what could be
desiring a type of fulfillment
 
seeking enlightenment
talking to spirits, wondering the meaning of it all
the souls over the immortal like to speak
gossiping in my ears
 
whispering hush lovely ones
let me make it through blind
my observations are vital teachers
the way I see things opens minds
 
the mind of the Father who watches intently
secreting away how I feel about him
we observe as one
 
sadly sometimes i hurt his feelings
with my blunt but honest views
it isn't desired to be this way but it is
 
fond of me I love him
we communicate daily
he is the first to address me when I rise
the last to say goodnight
 
my confession for the day...
I like the truth of a feeling
if you're feeling me tell me
swinging wide, I hurt you today
 
my Father is correcting me
as he does every night
we review the day
telling him my truth he chastises me
living proof I have a conscious
forigve me