Am I the monster I’ve been hiding from?
Or the echo of screams I hush in my lungs?
Can’t outrun a shadow stitched to my spine,
Can’t fake a sunrise when the dark’s still mine.

Each time I stitch the wound,
it splits somewhere new
a bleeding trail down a road I never knew.
I thought I was healing, thought I was whole,
but maybe I’ve just been patching a soul
with tape made of hope and silence and sin,
walking a path where I leave pieces of skin.

I turn around,
and the girl I was is scattered
like glass in the gravel,
every step shatters.

Was I ever moving forward?
Or just spinning in place,
gasping for breath in God’s empty space?
Do I restart this war with no map in hand,
or do I sink in silence like wet-packed sand?

If I drown this time
will the weight let go?
Or will my goodbye
just echo below?

It started with a pull,
just a little peace wrapped in green.
Thought I had it handled
a blunt to hush the screams.
Then came the whisper,
the ghost of the snow,
a line on the mirror,
and suddenly I’m back with blow.

I swore I left that girl behind,
the one who chased numb just to feel fine.
But the past don’t knock
it kicks in the door
when your chest feels heavy
and your knees hit the floor.

******* called soft like an old friend’s hug,
but left me empty,
jaw tight,
heart shrunk.
I laughed at the ceiling,
eyes wired, soul cracked
knew I was slipping
but didn’t claw back.

Not ‘cause I didn’t want to,
but because in that second
the fall felt safer
than standing tall in my own truth.

But look at me now.
Ashamed? Maybe.
But broken?
Hell no.

Because a relapse ain't a death sentence
it's a lesson.
A reminder
that healing ain’t clean
and strong girls bleed too
in the dark
when no one sees.

I forgive you, Jennie.
For the ****,
for the blow,
for the nights you danced with demons
just to feel like you could float.

You're not back at the start
you’re just rerouting.
Still breathing.
Still chosen.
Still worth shouting:

“I slipped,
but I rise—
and this time,
I bring fire in my eyes.” 🔥

Four months in,
and the smoke's startin’ to clear
your words once felt like gospel,
now they echo my fear.
I gave you soft in a world that taught me stone,
but even with a man on my side,
I’m still fightin’ alone.

You called it love,
but love don't flicker when it’s real.
I’m not a charity case
I don't need you to heal.
I needed you to see me,
not tuck me in shadows,
not run back to comfort
when the storm starts to rattle.

I won't be the girl you hide,
the silence in your phone,
a name never spoken
when you're back in her home.
My heart is not a game,
my soul not a phase
I'm the woman who rose
from heartbreak and blaze.

I’ve danced with betrayal,
slept in the arms of doubt,
but look at me now
not broken, just found.
My love was never small,
you just couldn’t contain
a force this wild,
a queen you can’t tame.

So here we are again,
same pain, new name.
But this time?
I'm not foldin’. I’m not ashamed.
You thought you had me
but baby, I was always flame.
Now watch me walk,
crown tilted, drippin’ grace
this queen don’t wait,
she reclaims her space.

The past got a grip like cracks in my lane,
Every push forward still echoes the pain.
Green flags got me swervin’ , are they truth or a trick?
Red ones got rhythm, but it’s makin’ me sick.

Love left bruises under sugar-sweet lies,
Told me I was safe, then dipped in disguise.
Now I second guess peace, flinch at a touch,
Like maybe I’m the problem for feelin’ too much.

Skatin’ past memories, wheels hum like a song,
But my heart’s still askin’ where it all went wrong.
Can I just breathe, just coast for a while?
Let go of the hurt and relearn my smile?

I don’t need a finish line, just space to be,
To glide through the chaos and finally feel free.
Even if the signs blur and my path’s unclear,
I’ll ride on faith and let go of fear.

I know why I feel like a misfit
It’s not a flaw, it’s a sign.
The world never knew what to do with me,
But heaven had me in mind.

I walk with a limp, not for pity,
But proof that I fought to survive.
They called me too much, too broken, too raw,
But somehow—I’m still alive.

I never fit in with the polished,
Never played by their rules or their game.
But even in silence, and out of their sight,
My Shepherd still whispered my name.

He left the ninety-nine just for me,
The one they’d already dismissed.
I wasn’t a prize to the people I loved,
But to Him, I was deeply missed.

The sheep with the thorns in her wool,
The wild eyes, the trembling knees
He wrapped me in grace, dirt and all,
And whispered, “You still belong to Me.”

So now when I feel like a misfit,
Like I’m drifting too far from the shore,
I remember the One who came running,
When no one else opened the door.

Let them keep their clean reputations
Their comfort, their gold, their acclaim.
I’ll keep my scars and my freedom,
And the power that lives in His name.

I’m the story that grace made holy,
The outcast He chose to adore.
I know why I feel like a misfit…
I was the one He left the 99 for.

Now that I’ve moved on—
suddenly,
you can’t stand me.
Like my peace is your punishment.
Like my healing
is the crime
you never thought I’d commit.

Your true colors—
they don’t bleed,
they spill,
like oil on water,
ugly and slick
for everyone to finally see.

I am their mother.
Their comfort.
Their calm.
Their safe place in a storm.

But you—
you turned love into leverage.
And for what?
To hurt me?
To feel power?
To prove some twisted point?

You scream and you snap,
but it’s only the reflection
of your own actions biting back.

And while you're too busy
drowning in your rage,
you don't see it—
the silent tears,
the confusion,
the ache in their little faces
when they ask for me.

They miss me.
They need me.

They don’t understand
how a father who claims to love them
can be so blind
to the hurt he’s causing
just by keeping them away.

But I see.

I see it all.
And even through the heartbreak,
I rise—
not for revenge,
not for pride—
but for them.

For the girls.
For the love that never left.
For the mother I still am
even behind closed doors and court orders.

Because they were never pawns.
They are my purpose.

And no lie,
no tantrum,
no temporary silence
will change that truth.