wish I could be better- but god doesn't care

The sun is shining,

But I want to die

The butterfly glides across my sight

And the sun feels good and warm against my back

But I just want to go home

Run away from the heartache,

The confusion, mistakes.

If only I could stop making

Mistakes.

Could stop hurting the ones

I love.

With my judgmental, rude

Bitter and cynical heart.

Forgive, forgive, forgive they do

Until one day, the vat of

Ending, limited love

Limited, imperfect love

Will come to an end.

And I'll go back to how I was,

Without a friend.

"If you really knew me you wouldn't like me"

That's the cliché that therapists dispute.

But it's true, it's true,

What do you say when it's true?

I hold them, they stay until

The nice façade drops.

The real me shines through,

I'm a devil in disguise.

A hater, a critic

And I wish I could be anything but

I hate who I am

And I hate who God has made me.

I would change it if I could, and I do try

Try and try again.

My endless quest toward

"Progress, not perfection."

Bullshit, though.

People say it's OK we're imperfect,

And "yea, we'll give you grace."

And "yea, we'll forgive you"

"It's OK, I still love you."

But when lovers are imperfect,

Then isn't the love imperfect, too?

Only god can love infinitely,

How much love can you do?

Not as much, not as high

Not as deep, as the ideals

And it's not your fault,

It's His.

It's how He made you.

Because apparently imperfect

Is a good thing, too.

A teaching tool, a

Character builder, a

Jesus-maker, a

Transformer.

But what if the pain it causes

My imperfections, and yours,

Causes irreversible friction

Too much to bear,

So that to live isn't gain, but quite the opposite, I fear.

Unless you consider the gain of pain,

Of bitterness

Of disappointment

Of friction

Of anxiety

Of depression

Of hopelessness

Is that gain, God?

Is it worth it to you?

Should it be worth it to me?

Should I be happy to be

Free, should I?

I have free will;

I can choose to love you

Or I can choose to HATE you.

OK maybe that's true.

But im afraid you forgot, or you've missed, or overlooked

That part where you gave me the freedom,

The peace of mind

To be a nice person, calm, tolerant, and kind.

Because as hard as I try

And I try, and I try

My inner critic emerges, awaits me,

Feeding another sinful line.

Another judgement, my inner bully

Who talks when I say no.

When I'm honest and open, she

Shines through and I cringe

Because I know, OK

Here comes the acid;

Here comes the hatred, the ugly, the horrible

Me

Pride

Selfishness

Rudeness

Vile

My words rip the smile

Off her face, in a hurry.

"Be honest," they say

"Be authentic, be open, be real."

Well what if the real me

Is no one that you'd want revealed?