I GET IT NOW.
remember how it was treacherous to think of a person to be more than a person
I made that mistake.
I thought of myself as more than a person
a weak empty vessel
that can only function when God sends
that river to flow through you, empowering you
how silly of I to think otherwise
I see now
and I kid you not
This is the most humble I have ever been so far

Even the strength we have
is not of ours
not mine to give
not mine to take
but its by God's grace that we have

It all makes sense now
everything that had happened
it clicks
I see the connection
ohmygoodness
how blind I have been

My pride led to my fall
painful yet its an awakening I so gratefully receive
I must know my place
a mere human being.

We don't hold the ability to change people
don't you see
that argument we had about how class bonding was useless
how we tried so hard but in the end you told me
humans can't change personality
humans can't change people
only God can

I argued
and now I find that
you were right all along
why was I so freaking blind

I took matters into my own hands
and I would not now
ever.

Because I am but a mere human being
I can't force anything
because it's not in my power or right.

I can only wait for him
to use me
by his mercy and grace.

Have you ever felt that feeling
where your mind transforms
from being cloudy, dark and grey
sitting in that grey area that just grows larger and larger as time ticks

and suddenly it clears.
Like sunshine after rain
I was brought to my knees
I fell.

And I'm glad I did
because never have I been so lost and selfish
that was my lesson.
this whole week was my lesson

and I thank you Lord for that lesson

THIS IS NOT A POEM* ABOUT:
Love, pain, life, death, nature or feelings.

THIS IS NOT A POEM WITH:
Kick **** quotations, complex thoughts, cute phrases or difficult words.

THIS IS NOT A POEM THAT WILL MAKE YOU:
Cry, laugh, feel less miserable or think at night.

THIS IS NOT A POEM THAT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

THIS IS NOT A POEM INSPIRED IN SOMETHING IN PARTICULAR.

THIS IS NOT A POEM BEAUTIFUL AS A FLOWER, REBEL AS THE SEA, HAPPY AS A RAINBOW OR MELANCHOLIC AS THE GREY SKY.

THIS IS NOT A POEM THAT USES THE KIND OF COMPARISONS THAT YOU HAVE READ ABOVE.

AND IF YOU ARE STILL READING IT,
**THIS IS NOT A POEM.

She brushes her hair,
Before going to bed.
Takes the mask,
From upon her face.

She lines her pillows,
Perfectly inline.
Resting her head,
And her aching bones.

She thinks about her day,
Falling asleep.
She buries her head,
Deep in her pillows.

Thunderstorms and rain,
Wind and sun.
And she’s still alive,
All of these years later.

And why is she still alive?
Because the universe is her friend.
Her only friend?
Maybe.