The Heart of the Problem

Throughout the body moves phlegm and spit,
and out of the mouth, pourreth out vomit.
What's been accelerated through discolored veins
by a beating heart sustaining them stained.

Break the ribs and chew it out,
it's gone on for far too long.
No longer pounding and beating it's drum
now quivering inside religious curriculum
this insect's shell, this inward hell.
Remove it with claws and teeth,
remove it.

Without room to turn outside
I turn inside to cower and hide,
from the hollowness of other life,
the unholy wandering circular strife.

Break these walls and set it free,
oh God, set me free eternally.
Free me to love
you first than me,
but before me the rest of humanity.
I'd Love you if I had room,
but my love for myself fills my body,
this tomb.
Remove it with claws and teeth,
remove it.
Forgive me
Remove it,
remove me.

And in grade school you were the best friend
then we learn words and our social begins,
so you crawl inside a cocoon
and comes out in parties and Sunday school rooms.
When I got old enough to tell,
it was all a joke, they scared me with hell.
And Your love has always been here.
Perfect love will drive out fear.

The heart of the problem is my love for me
and how I use you to bring it all peace.
The fear, the guilt, the moths, the rust,
the provisions we grow into turning to trust.
This blood that's flowing through me
being forced from a heart that's diseased.
Remove it.
Remove me.
I'm yours
eternally.
I'm done.