It started with a single night out
Friends, hang-outs, a couple of drinks
And slowly the bottles started to rack up
Sundays designated for worship
Now became nursing days
Even the mornings feel slower now
The calls kept going unanswered
Even the occasional attendance ended
Their voices go on without mine in them
From word of mouth to imprint
The warnings stacked up on my record
I stop being counted in anything
The bills are heaped on my dresser
My room feels smaller than it is
Who is this laying out cold on the floor?
When all familiar roads fail, I am left to walk the yellow path
Standing in front of that wooden door, I half turn to go
But all roads have led here so I put my hand on the knob and turn
The bright lights from the stained glass radiate with warmth
The burning embers of the candle glow with a flicker of hope
The man hanging on the tree looks down on me as I kneel
My voice not only cracks but the words fail me
The filth from within too vile to spit out here
I wonder, will you listen; should I even be here?
My eyes stay fixed on the ground
My shoulders can no longer hold themselves up
My face carries the weight of the night
I choose to let it all go
And the dam finally breaks
And for the first time, the room feels still.
The grip on my chest starts to loosen
I can feel myself breath differently
The light permeates and I feel a spark
