Your choices are what make you
If that's the case, I'm made of poor decisions and frequent fears
I'm a half-hearted concotion of anxious sweat and tears
I tear, gnash at the things that pull me back
Then retreat to bed and put my smile on the rack.
I undress myself from my skin
And I wonder what this mess is, and how I got in.
I have choices to make
Roads to take
Miles to go, smiles to fake.
I cannot be held back by love or fear,
And I move steadily towards the finish line till I find it approaching near.
Maybe then I can look back on this
On this mess and confusion and stress,
And say my choices didn't make me
I pulled them from a power within.
And I will be able to rest easy knowing
My choices didn't make me,
I made them.