WHAT IS INSIDE OF THE CUP

I have been walking for what seems to be days looking for change to fill my cup in so many ways. I begged, I sang, I stole, but nothing I did filled my soul or made me feel as if I was whole, so I decided to switch up my dance instead of feeling as if I had to left feet. I never knew what I would see or who I might meet.

What is inside this cup? Why is it that the more it gets filled, the emptier it seems? Is this some new reality or some twisted dream? Am I going to wake up without a tongue or teeth to speak? I am strong because I have been weak.

What is in this cup that everyone I encounter is afraid of? Can it be their lies being polished into diamonds of truth? Trust me; I think it is time to open the doors to see the skeletons, to see those God damn fears that as tears fall from eyes that hide behind masks, and it no longer is an easy task.

What is inside of that cup which is drinking the Kool-Aid that has suddenly turned into some wine? Should I put my ear to the ground and see if I hear a sound telling me where I can get mine?

What is inside the cup that keeps trying to make me fall? It is starting to smell like gasoline, and I have the match in my hand to light the fire of my desires, waiting to dance with the flames that have been calling my name.