rebuke is a funny thing.

Your heart doesn’t expect it and the bitter stinging of tears does nothing to wash away the dreadful ache within. How do you reach out and beg someone’s forgiveness? Any words said thus far have been nothing but helpful and I hesitate to spill my heart anymore. My unguarded places feel vulnerable.

I think my hunger to share my soul is somewhat dangerous.

When it rains or it shines on this pillow of mine
I will lift up my head to the sky
So I have chance to see
Where my hope has come from
Know there’s nothing that I can’t abide

When nothing satisfies You
Hold my hand 

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