Spilt Wine

Hope is hard to hear when Despair is screaming in my ear.
Help me, hold me, and sing to me.
It’s hard to tell what hurts more, bottling up my emotion or letting it out.
Maybe there is a fault to my design.
It has never been my intentions to cause hurt.
Regret is a hard pill to swallow
Sometimes the only comfort I can find it my pillow.
Don’t hold things against me.
Have hope that I can be better than this.
Have faith that I am being renewed
Have love for me despite my short falls.
Have confidence that I am still growing.
Hold my hand and tell me it is ok