I bow in silence
in hope to heard.

I cower in divine
chance with no real proof I'm insured.

What late night should my sturdiness get,
then to burn under the sheets
like desert spit.

I'm trying to convince a sturn confidence
that I've learned more than I've burned
and sanity is around the next turn.

No matter wich plain of my mind that I'm on
life surrounds this emotional intelligence.

What I remember is what I know,
and what I've forgot
will soon come to pass.

What makes me worry when trying to figure myself out;
is that I might have given up,
I might have said "no",
or that I could have.