I saw her, I was sure.
It wasn't a choice to be pure.
I never prayed for a special moment.
That kid, poor little kid running on contempt.
Never got the chance to dream about a wedding.
Formative years spent on everything worth avoiding.
It was enough to at least oh please be able to understand.
It was what I was able to pray so hard, to see beyond.
Then the pain found its solace, it is not going away.
There it is a gift — truth, that may seem to betray.
It gave us a chance to fix, to forgive, to belong.
There is so much more than being wrong.
I saw her again and now it is vague.
So jaded mere prayers even fade.
Lord, give her strong will.
She knows what to feel.
Maybe I lost it then.
Let me feel again.
discernment, the in-betweens, to get through, to feel the pain, so she never forgets, feel everything that I am now.