B
(This is more of a prose than a poem, more so just thoughts.)
Realizing how deep of an open wound you’ve left with someone is one of the hardest things to see. Everything in your nature wants to tie every excuse into a knot of justification that will NOT fix things.
Repentance means to turn around. From what? The lies digging like fish hooks into the grace that’s been given.
Grace is the colored rings around a full moon,
the laughter of those accepting each other,
the tears we scream together,
the imperfections that we do not realize alone. Even when we’re in our on solitude.
Forgiveness is already there. It isn’t a hill, or a fence to climb. It’s in our hands ready to seep through our skin when we’re ready to shake off our pity and blind eyes.
Let’s let our high egos bounce off the wall of an echoing tunnel. Let them diffuse away.
The brokenness our audience (the world) sees is not real weakness, it’s been twisted through history and unsatisfied lust.
Let’s break, like the build up of a song,
like the times you’ve cracked your knuckles just to loosen them up,
like the people who have cried for the one’s they’ve lost, whether physically or emotionally.
That takes strength.
We can’t create strength though because we were born into different views of what strength is. The only strength, the only hope we need, is the one that never changes. The one that never abandons.
That love is our from our true Father.
Realizing how deep of an open wound you’ve left with someone is one of the hardest things to see. Everything in your nature wants to tie every excuse into a knot of justification that will NOT fix things.
Repentance means to turn around. From what? The lies digging like fish hooks into the grace that’s been given.
Grace is the colored rings around a full moon,
the laughter of those accepting each other,
the tears we scream together,
the imperfections that we do not realize alone. Even when we’re in our on solitude.
Forgiveness is already there. It isn’t a hill, or a fence to climb. It’s in our hands ready to seep through our skin when we’re ready to shake off our pity and blind eyes.
Let’s let our high egos bounce off the wall of an echoing tunnel. Let them diffuse away.
The brokenness our audience (the world) sees is not real weakness, it’s been twisted through history and unsatisfied lust.
Let’s break, like the build up of a song,
like the times you’ve cracked your knuckles just to loosen them up,
like the people who have cried for the one’s they’ve lost, whether physically or emotionally.
That takes strength.
We can’t create strength though because we were born into different views of what strength is. The only strength, the only hope we need, is the one that never changes. The one that never abandons.
That love is our from our true Father.