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My momma taught me love meant,
Doing what ever needed to be done for that person,
Even if it cost you your life.
Now she never actually said that but,
She showed me that with every action she did for me from birth.
See,
My mom almost died while giving me life.
See,
My mom always put food on the table,
Even if she had to pawn the promise ring my dad gave her.
See,
My mom didn’t have to tell me she loved me,
But she did anyways.
Am I a Sinner or am I a Saint?
Cause I’ve been given the ability,
To both Love and Hate.
To both give and take.
To both sin and pray.
I wish I could spend my late nights praying to the God who came down to make me right in his fathers eyes.
But I tend to spend those late nights,
Taking one shot too many,
Watching internet clips that I shouldn’t be,
Wishing that I wasn’t alive right now.
Because I’ve allow my flesh to convince me to partake in the things of this world,
As if there was no consequence,
As if it would give me rest,
As if it would some how make me blessed.
But let me inform you,
That I’ve been filled with nothing but regrets.
That a world without God is nothing but a reject.
That all I can do is simply repent.
But my shame still clings to me like a spirit ******* leech.
Trying to make me forget that my God has made me stainless like a white shirt after bleach.
Try to make me forget that,
Jesus was put physically 6ft deep,
So that I wouldn’t have to be put spiritually 6ft deep.
In that,
He took all my regrets and they died along with him,
He took all my shame and it died along with him,
He took all my sin and it died along with him,
He took my flesh and it died alone with him.
That when he resurrected,
My spirit was made alive in him.
Yet in that,
I still have the ability to both sin and pray
I’ve been self taught since the day I was born.
I taught myself to cry to allow oxygen to enter my lungs.
I taught myself to hold by bottle cause I got tired or my mom taking it from me.
I taught myself to lie when my mom asked me if I ate all the cookies.
I taught myself to ride a bike when my father got fed up with teaching me.
I taught myself to never make my father angry so I wouldn’t get no ahhh wooping.
I taught myself math cause my teachers were not skilled enough to get it through my head.
I taught myself science equations cause when my teacher spoke she made no sense.
I taught myself to love myself cause I never knew if anyone would.
I taught myself to love someone who never really loved me.
I taught myself.
I don’t hold on to these memories because I’m sad,
Not even mad,
Not even reminiscing,
Not even trying to figure out where it went wrong,
Not even thinking about how much I loved you.
I hold on to these memories because I’ve never been hurt this much before.
I thought i broke bread^1 for you my ******,
I thought i broke bread^1 with you my ******.
I thought i broke bread^2 for you my ******,
I thought i broke bread^2 with you my ******.
1 refers to food
2 refers to money
Let live in the now, you know the time for us.
The time in which we focus on the memories that we will make.
The time in which we live out our loves together.
The time in which our past doesn’t have the right to dictate what we will do next.
The time where out past needs to stay in the passed and not used a a weapon to govern us.
The time in which we don’t seek a future that we may not even be together.
The time in which we don’t let our dreams take over our memories that we never end up making.
This is my Shoebox of Poems.
You know, the poems you didn’t wanna write.
The poems that you wish you never thought of but, if you didn’t put them down on paper they would end up staying in your head all night, they would end up keeping you from sleeping at night.
The poems that revel your scars that you didn’t even know you had.
The poems that remind you its okay that you’ve been hurt.
The poems that if your house was burning down you would go back in for.
The poems that belong in the shoebox in the back of the closet behind every other box.
This is my Shoebox of Poems.
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