Cross

This thing that hangs around my neck. Yeah, its empty.
Empty meaning, empty thoughts, empty love for something that I want and need so deeply.
It meant a lot when I had to fight for it, but I took the easy way out.
I'm a coward for running, for slipping through the cracks.
I'm fed up, not with anything or anyone but myself.
I've been telling myself over and over that its just a phase, that it'll pass. And it doesn't.
I'm challenged constantly so I'm scared, paralyzed.
The pure life I could attempt to live is passing me by in a whirlwind,
As the materialistic cross that once reminded me who I was, lies on my chest trying to bring me back to life.