Asleep. Aware. Awake again.
Same request, another time, and again.
Oh, the truth, the desire. The genuinity.
And then the response, and the coinciding prayer:
"Don't let me ruin this like I always do."
Oh, the intensity, the desire. The ecstasy.
Awake. Aware. Alive, and choosing.
Tears fall to my hands, in which I hold, and by which I have created these ruins.