do you feel the same?
that without faith, grace had no name
that before salvation the war looked like a game
that addictions weren’t monsters, just pets to be tamed?
the excuses never made sense no matter how many times I explained
I had no acquaintance with restraint or refrain
Indulgence was my starlight; bright but only in the dark, everywhere and impossible to contain
and I always found someone else, knew someone else, found another way to blame
**** it all, I jumped in grinning into the brawl, I ran the gamut of lust in my fall
and it all started with red hot frustration and sweet, soft temptation
and chances to cheat and win and do it again without facing weakness and I gave in to it all
opportunities to fake it through the hatred and I lied through black smiles at them all
pain
makes the feeling heart bleed, and the gritted teeth crack, and the demons feed, and the memories all come back
maligned
and the hatred plants the seeds then the anger waters the vine
and the brokenness strengthens the thorns then the blackness starts to climb
up my solid ground, up my aching spine, up my choking throat, upside down into my mind
and I reached for bottles, and I reached for pills, and I knelt for coke lines
but I never knelt for the divine
what would a God do with a vommiting waste of my kind?
judgement sounded so unkind
we men are wretched things sang to me in every song, in it’s every every line, in each instrument’s chime
and anyway… anyway… who could overcome spent time
no, this slow burning suicide was my forever, my chosen lover, mine all mine
because look what I had done with what I was given, look at the killer I had been
look at the people I had run through and scars I had gouged caressing my sins
how would I ever begin again?
What does it even look like to begin again?
I found rock bottom will a shovel and a map
I was digging and it was my intention and I was never coming back
I laid in my own grave
how many people can say that?
I had burned every love letter family ever written me without thinking twice
and I had spit in the face of everyone who cared enough to run to my rescue with advice
and I had bullied the playground and never played nice
I had cut the wrists of my own life in unstitchable ways with self destruction as my knife to be sure I died
but just when it was truly just a few words from over, just where my poems always ended
hanging in the margin of the page just past that last line something was amended
I wanted to live
and I wanted to be happy
and I was scared
that I never could be
in those last twilight words on the paper, written by the me everyone had met, peddling pretty failure
as I sank in my waste, choking on my entire personality’s behavior
under the ominous weight of all my precious loss and terrible regret for everything I had wagered
I met my savior
He didn’t ask for blood or gold or indignity or shiny things I owned
and He didn’t punish under foot or berate with words for my every action He didn’t condone
He didn’t hate me and He wasn’t concerned with what was past now and He didn’t offer a loan
He just spoke to me, in that hushed moment, to tell me I didn’t have to be
alone
quietly, He said simply, “set down that house key, and come home”
Lord
thank you
Lord God thank you
for letting me finally rest
for saving me
for letting me come home