untitled

I've had this page drafted for weeks, 

searching for the words 

of what my heart speaks

I sit in the hopes of production 

but doubt makes me tussle

I have no desire to boast or self-sulk

as I stroll through this mental hustle,

progression against procrastination

reality or hallucination

genuine and phantom sensations

with no intention to rhyme

writing to understand why I’m wasting my time

I know the answer but seeing is believing

I overcame that Hell but now I’m grieving

I fell short of consoling myself of my achievements

still I rise, no weakened spirits will be pleased by my soulful cries

bargaining with what’s best for me

and what God has as my destiny

I trust that He blocks all negativity from my peace

and continues to lead me with ease.