Broken Things.

Here the blood goes down I am not broken- But I should be. The forms and lines of my life Have no meaning without You. Forget my life, Forget ME. I am undeserving Certainly I have nothing No gift No life I am empty Empty insid. God break me Give me life. I have nothing Nothing good inside. Nothing except that wretched pride What I can't get rid of That wretched beast I can't choose to slay What is this anyway? I am a poet who lost her soul And only God knows How to give it back. Its not that He stole it Its just that I sold it. God please, Buy me back.