I'm carrying deep inside me a wounded part of me
That's needing some healing and needing to be set free
But part of me is so attached to that brokenness inside
That when freedom's door is opened, I quickly run and hide
There's something so familiar about all my inner pain
That letting go would mean that nothing familiar could remain
So while I'm trying to heal and make myself more sound
I'm hanging onto things that keep the hurtful past around.
It's either: I choose to heal or I continue in the past
Progress cannot take place as long as these memories last
I must let go of the hurtful to arrive at a better place
This is my moment of decision, my moment of special grace.