My words morph out of place— would you
still entertain the thought of me in the end?

Every star rules its own space,
but the circumstance of a cosmos knots me up,
its circumference bending beyond my grasp.

A smile cracks the mirror—
I cut myself and I bleed from the shards.
Alone in my room, my sighs are heavy
as a tomb buried under the world.

It’s cold, too cold, and I’ve waited for
the heroic ******, that movie moment
where the hero rises—but I’ve climbed my max.

My throat feels split by an axe.
It’s all out of my hands; I tried to leave
it in God’s hands, but faith feels like
hand-me-downs— worn thin, never quite mine.
I light another cigarette, to drag time along with me.

I am not a sad song, just a tune people sing
along to, a chorus written in tears.
Tear me apart, piece me back like armies
lined up only to be shot down.

And when I fall again, I look up,
choking on the silence, and ask,
"Is this really the life I was promised by God?"
But then again, I did this all to myself!

Insulate to the sharp needle of insulin – as this pan
creases over daylight frying a canopy of trees, left
with skins that smell of mould; moulding us into forms
that don’t fit, following titles without ever playing the role.

Models parade as model citizens, while forests fall around
their footsteps; smiles reduced to emojis, connection flat
as a screen. Each impression feels like a coded message –
profiles lined with Bible verses in their bios, good at quoting
scripture, but so not good at keeping notes on The Message.

But we fashion ourselves into “the latest,” but our dreams
arrive too late, departing long before we catch them.

We are all stories inked together from the sharp tip of the
pen, injecting more time into our veins, yet living diabetic
to our morals – sugar-high on indulgence, starved of truth.

So, that class in anger management                                                      that sounded a little extravagant                                                      ­        that  you threw around like an accomplishment                                                   ­                                while  it  ended up being an embarrassment                                                    ­                                                You   still  get  aggressive   when  angered                                                   ­    Your heart is still black as cancer                                                           ­          You still sulk like a petulant child                                                            ­           I know, I got those memories on file                                                             ­    You tell anyone who believes you                                                              ­         that you've had some miracle breakthrough                                                   But I have learned to walk away                                                             ­              I ignore your immature displays                                                         ­         I  am no longer trauma bonded                                                           ­ I will  no longer remain haunted                                                          ­    I   used  to  feel  sympathy  for you                                                              now  I  know I  was  being abused

There is a Price to pay for the Beliefs you Hold
For when the Truth shines in your consciousness
like starlight, clear and silver
That is G-d embracing You
but there are times when with a weakened grasp
You feel like your slender fingers must carry the weight of a thousand
Mountains
And everything seems magnetically wired to
Crush you,
Deaden the life inside
Hold on! to the iron Truth
Your mind knows
and harness it to a Starving, waiting Soul
who knows G-d loves it forever
But feels it will splinter into a million shards
from the heartbreak of Yesterday's Dreams
and Tomorrow's fragility
And that, my dear, is when you know if you really believe
not with your mind, but with your heart.
There is a price to pay for your beliefs
It's called Faith,
sweeter than the purest love and stronger than the wildest storm.
and I'm Holding on to mine with White Fingers.

give us this day our daily bread
and lead us not into the toilet
for carbs are calories
and so is time
this is my body (said bread) broken for you
take, eat, and remember
i take, eat, and regurgitate
i purge your purging of my sins
for bread is not safe
but are you?

God, I stand here before you                                                                just a  simple broken human                                                            ­        In   the  past  I've  been  defiant                              ­                                   but  bless me with divine guidance                                                         ­ I've  been  brought down to my knees                                                            ­  seen  my darkest hours ,so please                                                           ­  could  you bring your light to me                                                               I  am in need of your mercy                                                            ­                       I  know that I  may have strayed                                   ­                         but  I  have never lost my way                                                              The path  to  you brings brighter days                                                  and  I've always had strong faith                                                          Lift me up, give me strength                                                         ­              give me courage so I ascend

My mom told me:
when you walk through sorrow,
do not fear the shadows
they are only the night’s way
of teaching you the stars.
you are not just a child of mine,
you are a child of the universe
born from fire,
shaped by silence,
destined for infinity.
And when I asked her,
“what is the meaning of all this?”
she smiled,
and said:
to live is to remember
that you are more than yourself,
that the cosmos speaks in your breath,
and every goodbye
is the seed of another hello.

What wondrous love is this?
You didn't resist
The pain, the blood, the shame
...You stayed.
While other wanderers strayed
When I was on the edge of full apostasy
You recovered me
Guided me
Through shadows and streams of light
Through darkness terrors strife and fight
Your rod and staff
That kept me on the path
Have taken me here at last