My fear has a stronger resolve than my will.
Inconsistent.
And makes me out to be uneasy and erratic in fact.

But in the abstract, that is where the art is.
The milk I know that I should be trading in for meat.
The big picture accused of being conspired by men.

Where the word of god was a casting call for those of like fears of change.
I trained with fools and watched simple questions
root out the foolishness in myself.

It leads to no acceptable end.
Only more lies.
My will has a stronger resolve than my fear.

It's been called a venom that's poisoned friendships
that should have shaped my new life.
In truth it discerns the bullies from the bull%#@!, teachers from the tools.

Either way it is messy and destroys the will.
Do not tell me that you love me.
It's a lie that you do not have the stomach to see through.

Just stop.