I spent my entire adolescence
convinced I was a transient,
a wanderer who could never stick around
long enough to earn a name.
As it turns out, I wasn't wandering at all.
It's just that none of those around me
were headed the same way.

This light in my arms, this delicate consistence,
I've nourished it and protected it
in every way I know how.
There were times I thought I knew better.
Let me save you some work -
acting on this thought process never works out.

And I keep pushing this body forward,
now I'm running through the pain.
I keep shedding what could never stretch as far.
You'd understand if you compared the loss to the gain.
You'd understand if you would only dare to ask,
"at what cost am I losing His name?"

Because I have a knowledge of this,
of where this soul fits,
of why my stomach turns
when I lose the balance.

And I can't say I miss it,
all that time spent placing our priorities
in complete disarray.
I will say I thought you'd be here,
the way you expected me to speak,
the way you expected me to at least act complete,
the manner in which you examined truth
and untruth with me.

So here lay the remains
of what would never stretch far enough,
of what only attempted to deceive.
I've cut the cords that held me in this stupor.
It seems I've been shaken.
I'm awake now,
My first real breath is being taken in.
These eyes have been opened after a deep, deep sleep.