Free Your(selves)

i keep trying to to move ahead without moving anywhere
there's this old mirror in the basement of some house in the suburbs
it's dusty and decrepid and beautiful
and it tells the tales of self deceit and malice and fear

and somewhere in between there's someone just like me
staring with dead eyes into a himself
begging for some courage

then the courage comes
you say what you need to say
with grace and compassion and love
but it doesn't matter

what you really say no one will hear
they will only hear what the cracks reveal
shit, i'm the same way
i listen through the holes in the door
and i only listen for the beautiful sounds
the sounds that magnify my glory
and my joy and my peace

but with a glad ferocity
i bury disrupting moments of sound
that dig into the soul like a knife
bearing what's life of my dignity and pride and my worth

"don't fuck with my identity," we say
"let me be!"

but we're truly never left along
there's someone who digs and pries
and gets below the surface of things

but when He gets there
our entire world falls apart
all the patience, kindness and grace
we pride ourselves on having so much of
is vanished