There can be a hidden gem between the iron.
Some place that I can be firm with terms
Wrinkles are now on my clothes hung on the line
God has stripped away my shame as I learn

Piles of clothes fill out the baskets
Thoughts flashback, questions arise
Sometimes with overwhelming tactics
Fighting for resolution has made me wise

I don’t fall to the lies
I’ve moved passed those games
It’s exhausting to see you most times
Future extinct and full of decay

You’ve created an asylum
Lost in a twisted reality
I see how trapped you have become
It’s not a place for my sanity

Weak and helpless was my train
I spent years repeating the trauma
Finally I can feel free and you’re still the same
I am no longer crippled to your drama

I still feel like I’m healing
Closure always seems so near
I’ve never trusted those who are loving
So I’ve bought into a lonely leer

What was once permitted in our life
Now has become your prison
It’s because you don’t own your strife
It’s not okay with my vision

I said this before but I need to say
My chains are broken and I’m set free
I do not see how it will ever help you be okay
In this life we live on and that is the key!

Hope
To remain faithful
To sustain connection
Doubt creeps in hopeful
Eager to distort redemption

The toughest walk
Is the way
Tripped up by desires
Tempted each day

Every Jesus follower knows the pain
Sacrifice, blood shed
Struggling to remain

With each new day the sun will rise
Leading is the catalyst
That may leave us wise

Hope, faith, and love grow strong
Only if we draw close to God

To abide through the dismay
Preserver through
The decay
Find a spark that ignites the flame
It begins to purify
In Jesus name

The seeds are scattered  around the heart
We have to be broken
For the seed to get a start

Looking from the outside things don’t seem clear
Underneath, in the dark
Hope is drawing near

Being made new with the hope of eternity when I die
Seems a greater chance
Leading a legacy questioning why

Your fresh lips scare me
the way you abuse and manipulate.
I revisit old memories and get angry.

I am going through recovery
sometimes feeling terminally ill.
My mind tries to escape the story,
pockets of my soul you tried to ****.
 
Your damage is thick in my mind.
Time does the sharpening.
Expenditures barrow over time
forever staining the walls of my memories.

I pause, the pattern won’t break
Scroll through to the end
Insert what I want to laminate
It’s a sickness,

toxic from my own artificial mistakes
I will live here in freedom forgiven 
chastised by the feelings I cannot emulate.