Hi, this isn't a poem, and I apologize if that is what you expected.
I have had a couple of you guys messaging me, asking what happened, and why I haven't been posting like I used to.
Poetry is my outlet and way of expression. I don't have much to write about, and I'm not going to force a poem to make some of you happy.
I appreciate all the love and comments I have been receiving on the poems I have posted so far this year, but as time goes on, I have less time to write. College is crazy and a new chapter of my life is beginning.
I am by no means leaving Hello Poetry, however my writings will be sparse, saved for when I have a true story to share.

Never give up on your prayers. Even if you've been praying for the same thing for the past 5 years, don't give up. They eventually do get answered in due time. That's what I went through and I felt like God wasn't listening or like He had gave up on me. No. He was just waiting for the full lesson to be taught.
For the person out there who might be struggling with their faith, you are most certainly not alone in this. My faith has been like a roller coaster and I just now feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be.
I knew I needed change in my life, and I knew that change needed to happen before I would be secured in my faith. I gave up and gave it to God. I was trying to figure it all out on my own, and I didn't need to. Just lay the broken pieces at the Saviors feet!

Those stretch marks are not tiger stripes.
Instead, they are the waves and ripples in the reflection of the ocean on the side of a boat.
They are proof,
of a death before birth.
Proof of a still born baby's water birth,
and how the pool of blood and fluid leftover from the trauma,
became salt water poisoned by tears.
The red lines are the way her eyes looked.
Blood shot and bruised from the previous blows.
They are proof that she lived.
That the ***** donor that does not deserve the title of father, lived.  
And that the baby girl is dead.
She never got to see her eyes open.
Do not romanticize those stretch marks,
saying that they are stripes that were earned.
They are nothing but scars of a horrifying event that she is reminded of every time she sees a baby,
and every time she looks at her body,
because she is no tiger.

Will I walk by the river,
with you by my side?
Or will I lift my eyes in Hell,
for believing in a lie?
I love you more than anything,
I'm not ashamed of where we've been,
but I'm afraid of the fire,
if our love is a sin.

You ask me why I'm so guarded,
Why I won't let you in,
And why I stayed in bed for three months after my 18th birthday.
Maybe you should be asking why my favorite movie is perks.

We love the things we relate with.