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i was born in the burn
1995 flame, a war within
ghosts pacing the halls before i ever knew
how to carry a name
or lie like a man
i learned young how to build a face
that people could love
so they would never look past it
that mask fit too well
i forgot what skin felt like
my fathers sins were seeds in my blood
planted in silence
harvested in screams behind walls
that cracked before i could fix them
i swore i wouldnt become him
i didnt
i became the fallout
theres a psalm in my right hand
a loaded habit in my left
and every prayer tastes like rust now
i say the right words sometimes
other times i just stare at the ceiling
and wait for the judgment
or the mercy
whichever lands first
i still see her, my friend
ten years gone and somehow
still closer than God some days
i carry her like a debt
that never stops charging interest
my faith is a battlefield
where angels bleed in silence
and demons grin in old familiar faces
mostly mine
twisted mines
i drop my values like broken weapons
pick them up again
pretend theyre clean
pretend im clean
but ive counted the weight of my deeds
on both sides of the scale
and even if it tips my way
i know thats not how grace works
thats just math
and math wont save me
ive stopped praying to be perfect
i just beg to be real
i still want to be holy
but God i dont know how
to stop being me long enough
to let You in
if theres mercy
if theres still blood on the altar for the hypocrite
if grace can bleed this deep
then let it bleed
ive traveled so far to be here again
maybe crawling back is the only kind of worship
ive ever truly known
I've forgotten how to be me.
And I've forgotten how not to be me.
The version of myself that walks and speaks and sins
it's not the man I want to be.
But the man I want to be feels lost in smoke,
somewhere between the psalms I used to pray
and the faces I've learned to wear.

So I ask myself:
If I exorcise who I've become,
who's left standing?

Maybe no one.
Maybe just a shell,
burnt on the outside,
still bleeding on the inside.
"You have severe arterial fibrillation . You need attention now or you may have a stroke and die ."
I said Doc , "I'm not afraid of dying . I'm afraid of living."
 Dec 2024 Chelsea Rae
Liana
To a stranger
I might look weak
Crying at 11:00pm
Outside in the cold
Headphones on

I might look crazy
Spinning
Reaching out to the far away stars
Standing on a tree stump in front of a random house
My favorite place to be
Waving at every passing airplane
Wondering if they're waving back to me

Maybe a bit strange
For most teens don't go outside to walk
Especially so late at night
Alone
For that

But I know
If I was the stranger
Looking out their bedroom window
Watching
I would smile
From a couple days ago but forgot to post

(This note was written by wheely chairs without wheels)
blessed are the pure in heart
pure in heart
pure in heart
for they shall see god
see god
see god
and not be blinded by
sickles in eyes
harvesting what the world
longs to buy
to buy
to buy
a cost of soul
a meeting of minds
reality transcends
the emptiness within
its a story its a spin
layers of caked on sin
leprosy covered sin
cut off and not allowed
to see god
see god
see god
so i pray make me clean
been this way since fourteen
maybe longer maybe less
couldn't care less
theres sins i dont confess
i just undress and
let my nakedness be my shame
take the blame
its only a game
im only a name
my only aim
to hit the mark
have a pure heart
and finally see
god
 Feb 2022 Chelsea Rae
Lily X
I didn't want you,
I wanted love
and I have realised
that they are not the same thing.

You were a mould
that I poured my insecurities in,
a computer I tried to program.

But you are a sky,
stormy and clear and rainy and warm.

You were so blue when I longed for red.

I didn't want you.
I wanted the thought.
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