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Jean May 2018
if your search for grace
has lead you to be defaced
just run to His embrace

if you only find cold
amongst the brave and the bold
there is warmth in His hold

if your fear takes control
your peace and comfort stole
turn to Him to calm your soul

if you do not wish to roam
and you are looking to atone
in His arms you’ll find your home

if you have no breathing space
or there is something you can’t face
as long as you run to His embrace

if all you feel is brokenness
and you’re filled with loneliness
He will hold you with holiness
Jean May 2018
Is talking a normal thing
families do at meals?
Is there something more to bring
Other than knives and forks and silence?
And does that silence often reveal
Something along the lines of defiance?

As we clear our plate
We talk of null
Only what we must restate
And once we sit a quiet fills
every seat of the table
No words left and so silence overfills

We sit and eat
Yet silence always feels like a threat
I must wave defeat
With a white flag of surrender
But can one do as much to forget
To not cry or even faltar?

Because when you dare
to speak aloud
to let words grace the air
You are only met with the feeling
That your words are not to be avowed
They are only meant for nothing
Jean May 2018
I remember the photos we look at when someone has died
A mix of smiles and laughter and tears and memories
Flood back to me
A mix of smiles and laughter and tears and memories
That never belonged to me
Yet still
I have them
Jean May 2018
My truth stretched into seconds
And then into minutes
Which seems to be taking hours

yet,
     nothing has been said
               and I’m not sure if
                                              I ever will

Is not telling my truth just as bad as lying?
Is it?
Jean May 2018
Air
And I take the leap:
        This is what flying feels like
One voice says to me
         This is what falling is
Another voice says

          And I sometimes
                              wonder
                                          which voice I should listen to
          Those are the days
                               I wonder
                                           what flying feels like

           I wonder
                      if I could feel the air in my face
                                                            ­             in my hair
                        spreading my lips into a smile
           Or if all I could feel was an impact
                                       A shattering of bones
                                              A skip of the heartbeat
                                                                ­              and then

           no more....



                                  Was it even worth jumping in the first place then?

If my life last only mere seconds
                                    why even consider it?

                                                               ­   But I think has something to do                              
                                                                ­                        with the difference
                                               between  
                                    living
            ­                                and
                             ­                    barely
                                                        su­rviving
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