its just that its delicate

i might sing when i'm alone
to no one in particular
i could cry every time
things go so wrong or i
could release the cold.
its not that i'm emotionless or
without sorrow
its just that its delicate.
i feel the ball of pain swelling in my throat
forcing tears that promise nothing at all
and i can't help but wonder when
things are going to get easier.
i'm running into trees that refuse to move
and i'm given many options but
not many too choose
and i know what i don't want
but there's no where for me to go.
i might reach out to someone
but what if they're a ghost?
there when not wanted
gone when i need them the most?
is there such thing as Favor?
or is the lack of one named Test?
and i'm running and running
to nowhere in particular
things that are so meaningless
are now the very things that are depressing me
and as much as this word play used to satisfy my
cravings for distraction, i'm afraid that this makes things worse.

God, would you please listen to me for just one second?
I need you more than I need air, or life.
And I can't help it if I seem pitiful or meek,
because the truth is, I can't do anything without You.
And if I'm going in the right direction, please God,
show me that I'm still in Your sight.
Because I'm a failure without You.