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We're strangers, 

Simply connected by blood and some DNA. 

You took my fragile bones 

And eradicated your love with the most fickle tale, 

One bone after another you broke, 

Just like the promises you made 

And still find the power to make. 

My innocence I left in your hands, 

Like every daughter should, 

And you found the laughter in failing me. 

Almost as if you're amused by my distress. 

Every endless notion you conjured was left for me 

To wallow in. 

Another child added to the list of statistics; 

Fatherless. Abandoned. Bruised. 

Broken. 

How dare you say you love me, 

When the only love I've ever known was the love 

I received from a Father not of this world. 

How dare you say you want the best for me, 

When all my blessings 

Have been in the form of anything but you. 

How dare you speak words of picky lies 

Pronounced like a rescuer 

But only to end up in the same 

Hole you began to dig back when I was just a young girl. 

My heart beaten and torn like rags, 

It goes deeper than the skin. 

It streams through my veins and races through my fingertips. 

Every last word on the page filled with 

That same hurt that ran through your head,

When you found out losing your youngest 

Meant giving up on both.

–

*Occasionally I write poetry, and I've decided to share some more of it on my blog. A little different from the kind of stuff I normally write, but these are things I can't really just easily discuss. 

Honey

Blessings are like sweet drops of honey that leave residue on your lips and praise from your mouth
Blessings are like the feeling of a full stomach, after eating bread and water; reminding you that your hunger is fulfilled by the breaking of bread and dipping of wine.
Blessings are like a joy that comes in the morning, singing songs over mountains and rejoicing in beauty.
Blessings consist of a Savior loving His people, giving them hope, and joy, and grace.

Man oh man, I am drowning in blessings up to my ears.
Don't let me eat them up without saying grace with my clasped hands and an over-joyous heart
Don't let me forget the one who Blesses, so I do not boast in my false goodness or my useless works.
Let me be reminded that every blessing is the first drop of rain after a season of drought;
it is not the reason we praise to our Creator, but merely another reason why we sings songs to His holy place.

Worship

Grace

Filling up like oceans, erupting

Like mountains spilling over the horizon.

The darkest valleys washed;

The deepest trenches cleansed from their shame.

Sinking into love,

Grace like rain pours out

Creating waves within my soul.

It binds me to my Creator

Leaving me thirsty for His Grace.

His Grace – water 

And His love – bread.

The Grace of the Maker

Is unending, forever satisfying,

Enduring through my darkest.

What do I make of this Grace?

Worship. 

Broken Bones

Have you ever felt too broken to fix, as if your bones might break with the slightest touch?
Have you ever thought your heart was too sick to face it?
My bones are aching, but my heart hurts far worse.
My head it hurts, but my thoughts are far more haunting.

He left unfulfilled vows, broken commitments.
He slandered his own title in an instant.
But do I have understanding?
Do I walk with the ambition of repairing mangled souls?
Do I fix his before I fix mine?

I'm bottled up like the shipwreck he can't restore.
I'm another failure, another broken memory to add to his storage place.
Along with death and misery, I'm just another thing to be boxed up and left to decay.

You thought you were the only one that's broken, but you were wrong.

You said your heart hurt, but mine hurts ten times more and another time over.
So what then?
What do we say for lost time, hurt hearts, and worthless ambitions?
What do I say then;
Nothing.

Seven years and there's still no difference.
So walk then, and don't look back.
But my bones will still be aching, until you come around.