you once said i always have a choice.
i was mad.

you said that to someone who was helpless.
you said that to someone who had tried everything endlessly.

but you made me see that i was giving up.
that i had given up.

i am crazy.
i don't deny that.
but while i am attempting the embracing,
all i need is an embrace.

you won't give me that.
i respect you for the respect you give.
i know i have baggage.
i didn't expect you to carry it.
if you don't believe
that you are the one to help me with that,
to adore me for who i am,
to keep me 'til i die,
then that's okay.

it hurts.

like a paper cut.
it requires all my attention in this moment,
but if it won a role in my life
it would be the grains of rice i eat
from my favourite dish i cook
on the wednesdays of a busy week.
mostly insignificant, yet memorable.

i'm not saying you are a paper cut;
i'm saying you paper-cut me.

papers cut unintentionally.
knives cut with purpose.

that's why it is paper.

it stings.
it will seem tiny later, but right now it screams.

it needs healing. it needs prayer.
it needs trust in the bigger picture plan.

my bigger picture plan will have you in it
i am sure. for you have great lessons to teach.
but don't think you are the only one,
or that you are the only teacher.

my bigger picture plan will have you in it
for i have known you long.
my bigger picture plan
is not mine to organise,
but it is mine to live.

& even if you aren't in it after
i (dramatically) mourn this paper cut
with yellow rice on my fork,
r & b in my ears,
& type up words with teary tissues,
i thank you for everything you gave me.
i pray for your wellbeing,
& i praise God.