Don't argue with the pain. Don't deny it isn't real.
Listen to it's voice. Be quiet, be still.
The voices you hear screaming are somewhere deep inside.
The messages they're sending are problematic besides.
When those evil voices haunt your daily routine,
Reach out to God, not your broken self-esteem.
The voices aren't real, they are your fears giving a shout.
They continue to beg you, for you to find their way out.
My soul, wait in silence for God only, you say.
Then the whispers become angry and I can't make them go away.
I try to talk, I try to write but nothing seems to work.
It's as though I'm stuck inside, the crying, the hurt.
When it boils down to who I trust, Jesus Christ is His name.
I hold him in my blankey, to some, that might be lame.
But there is only One who knows it all, the big and the small.
For now I am a tiny girl, snuggled tightly into a ball.
So how does this tradgedy end, how does it all fit?
I suppose I'll know in the future, when God reveals it.
"Hang onto your sanity, Amy, don't let it go.
I have so many plans for you, you'll never outgrow.
As you seek to know Me better, may I give you this?
Never doubt my love for you, you're My little miss."
End
