I spend most of my time wanting an image that my situation renders impractical
bearing a situational image that I'm only half proud of
and fighting with myself about my lack of pride.
I am chastised at each step for depression, lackadaisicality, and effortlessness.
"For months now." I'm told, like someone is spitting poison at me.
And I do wonder, "Where has my determination, my power, my will, gone?"
It isn't improper to call me out for it, but it stings, because I already call myself out for it so often, so scathingly, and because I wish others wouldn't notice that I've lost something.
God, where is my "spark?"
Why is it so diminished or so cloaked that even I cannot feel it? Where is it?
Any fires I may try to build are certainly crude and in the wrong place. Why won't you let me find me? What is the point of being lost?
I know you've found me, but, LORD, lead me to myself. What's the point of being human, of being "me", if I don't have the gumption to find myself?
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