I'm standing at the edge of
new hope and old despair.
I could choose to fly or jump.
Will I land anywhere
I could build a future
that brings my heart peace?
Or will it all fade to black?
Either way, there's release.

When I came seeking comfort,
my tears were met with scorn.
An abrupt turn to kindness.
No wonder I feel torn.
Wondering where things stand.
Each action and word
infinitely analyzed
before it's seen or heard.

You take each chance to point out
that my fault are plenty.
Beneath your criticism,
I find myself buried.
Can I make it alone?
Am I free to run?
I feel my spirit weakened.
Too long out of the sun.