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I was walking down Main Street,
My head bowed, my heart
In my throat.
The sound of the subway was
Rushing through my head,
Cacophonous and loud.
Was this city only full of
Restless souls?
When did the suburbia
Of childhood, the peace
Of my mind,
Begin to align with the
Anxious pace
Of shoes in gutters--
Morality ground
Into the dried gum
Splattering the sidewalk?
Sometimes I feel
God’s hand
Around my heart,
knowing
He the only reason
It continues
beating.
Every pulse that
Shudders through me,
Is the pressure of
His love,
His hand pumping
my blood
With His enduring
plan for me.
It’s my birthday today.
The celebration of my life—
But I only feel the weight
Of all I have yet to turn
It into.
Merely a bag of yarn and
Crafts supplies I swear
I will get back to, but I
Only layer ***** sweaters
Ontop, lying to myself.
The socks
Grow more and more
Mismatched, my eyes
Bleary as I feed my needle
Through the stitches I
Can't see anymore.
Another
Finger counted off on my
Hand, but they start to
Shake more with each one,
The years blurring together.
Did I drop
The thread eons ago? Will I
Have to unravel everything
I thought I was building,
Hoping it was the purpose
Of my life?
I do not feel alive.
I feel like a cardboard
Cutout that kids push
Their heads through,
Smiling brightly as
Their parents snap
A photo.
Do we see the line
Of purity, & tiptoe
As close to it as
Possible, smiling
As we taunt it,
Reaching over to
Touch the ground
Without our feet
Stepping over,
Teetering on the
Edge of what’s
Considered sin?

By walking in
Christ, we see the
Line, and walk the
Other way--as far
& as long as we can.
The reminders

             Slunk away

When I was no longer

         S  t ruggling--
  
For I did not

              Understand

How they could not

         R  e form

Like I did--
Sometimes when we get better, we forget how the depths felt. It's so important, more even, to understand other's perspectives.
I hate when I forget that.
My faith is a sword,
Edged with love,
Weighted by grace,
Balanced by the
Sacrifice of Jesus.
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