Context

While I was looking through my journal that my dad bought me 7 years ago for my birthday, I came across some free writing I did when I was 13.
It's funny because when I read it now, I feel like I'm rediscovering an old friend that I've lost touch with over the years. It's like when you know you've been really close with them at one point, but it was so long ago that meeting them again is awkward, but comforting at the same time. All these old memories come back, and you're suddenly in grade school again: the days when homework was your biggest concern. It was during that weird transition from collecting stickers to having crushes on boys, all the while trying to understand the racial and religious background I carried around subconsciously.
And yet, somehow I was able to produce something that was beyond my understanding of what I was even trying to say. What it means to me now was something entirely different back then.

Where will I go when the tide falls in...when the sky falls in...
What will be left when the earthquake hits...and the land falls away...
What will I stand on...What will I do...
As life carries me on like a nameless shadow
Slashing cold wind upon my face
I do not dare utter the word that conquers me, that overcomes me.
Looking only around me, the walls cave in and no light shines through
All but a spec, and a hand reaching, searching for me.
Will I choose to trust...to take the hand, or
Will I stay here and remain in the mud of my despair...
A voice calls out to me, one calling his child,
A label, an identity that I cannot claim...
And so I sit, and stare and struggle to lift
My hand that weighs me down, with scarlet rain...
Instead of me reaching out...
It's Him who picks me up.