#weak-willed

weak-willed

skin becomes a crumbling facade, birds nested in the long dead clock in the heart, a relic in the gray gloom of a town frozen in time, a life desperate for reconstruction in the violence of deep breaths. a spine bent with such subservience, a bare room stripped of memories, of voices seeped into paneling and dented floorboards. to vanish into the shadows of tired trees and morning fog. to accede into a falling domino fate, the sap of aspirations sticky on your tremor riddled hands.

-kab

My insides are stained From toxins I crave

To continue this way Digs my own grave

If only being conscious of this Could change the way I behave

Yet it does nothing But make me hate myself

Ambitious but weak-willed

And so I remain a slave To my own self detriment

“It is not that we do not know in our minds what is right or best; it is that our minds alone are too weak to control our will, and our spirits too undeveloped to control either.  Our spirits are made to be filled with God’s Spirit and thus have primacy over our body, mind, will, and emotions.”

~Brother Angelo Scolozzi