I am doing alchemy.
It’s harder than it has to be.
I don’t know what to do with me.
(The old one—He’s still there.)

I wish that I could worry less
Like, not at all would be the best.
Can’t measure myself ‘gainst the rest.
That just wouldn’t be fair.

I write because it dulls the pain.
The pain I shouldn’t feel again.
Trapped in a cyle of self-blame
Have to get out of here.

If I believe, I will achieve.
The real reprieve—I will receive.
And all I have to do is see
That God’s always right there.