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Sia Harms Nov 2024
I set out to answer the question
Of how much weight simple words
Could hold—could they crush
Shoulders, evicerate hearts like
A falling anvil? Or were they more
Like acid rain, almost soft and gentle,
Unseeming until they sting more
Than water? There is always so much
Weight on my chest, and I suppose
It must be from the countless, heavy

Words left unsaid; but I don’t want
To be the hands to heave an anvil
On some unsuspecting bystander’s

Head--or the clouds sprinkling
Deadly tears onto unblemished skin. 

How much weight can words hold?
But I think the question is more
Accurately: how much weight are
We willing to transfer onto others?
Sia Harms Nov 2024
I am a rug holder,
rolling out lavish
Red carpets
for those who
Walk through
my life. And
I am a placeholder,
lying on the wood
As spiky heels
and mud-caked

Boots, trod over
me, leaving streaks
In my bristles,
and flattening
All the chances I had.
i am a doormat,
Too worn, too *****;
i was tossed out back
To wait for the big
green trucks to come
And take me, the
burden, far, far away.
Sia Harms Nov 2024
Raining questions and

An umbrella of answers--

They roll and drip

Down the sloped sides,

Reaching one conclusion

As they are absorbed

Into the ground.

Jesus Christ does not

Dispel the questions;

He encourages them

And answers in gentle

Tones, unaltered by the

Torrential downpours.
Sia Harms Nov 2024
a jar of pennies,
sloshing around
and clinking—
it is poor
and rusting—
My mind, that is.
Sia Harms Nov 2024
When will I crouch down in disbelief,
Holding a beeping metal rod as I
Stare down at the unfeeling mud
That hides my supposed salvation? 

Do I find these answers that I seek
Because I am out looking for them
On windswept ***** beaches, both
Crowded and filled with lightning,
Or do I never find them at all?

I rest for nothing. Day or night,
I sift through granulated rock,
Hoping to find something slightly
Shiny, even if my hands are ruined
And red from the relentless digging.

All along, the answers were not
At my feet, but resting on my shoulder:
A gentle hand, a waiting embrace,
And a father who wanted to walk
With me, not watch as I scrambled
On rocks to insanity—I found
Gilded answers, but not through
A machine or mindlessly scratching.

I found the greatest treasure of all:

My Lord & Savior, Jesus.
Sia Harms Nov 2024
[who am I?]
                                                             ­      Hardworking and determined,
                                                     ­          Statistics on a spreadsheet—
                                         That is all I am. 


                                                I have to be reminded that
                               I am not simply my resumé--
            I am full of love and passion,
Overflowing with the Holy Spirit.

My misdirected goals are only fuel for
         The accomplishments He has already
                   Ordained before my first screeching.
                                       --There is always time to pivot.

                                                      A daughter of God,
                                                            That­ is all I am.
Sia Harms Nov 2024
Gregarious and rueful,
The rooftops were filled
With the sound of
Broken bottles.

I stood on the cold metal,
Hoping the steps would
Hold, listening to the wind
As it whistled.

Where were the birds?
Migration or a pale moon,
I saw something try to fly,
Arms outstretched.

The rooftop was silent,
Even with the mouths
Opening and closing,
Drunken squalls.

The traffic grew louder,
Forms rushed past,
And a bird cawed
Like crippled glass.
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