i have a habit of deleting posts later and the personal context here will make me delete this too, like shoving pain under the rug and standing up and swearing to him that my house is clean.
swearing to him he never hurt me. never made me want to plunge under my own carpets, existing as the walking hurt i’ve been avoiding.
i stayed in bed all day yesterday and prayed for the people i hate. i wrote a poem in my head and forgot to write it down. that’s the poetry equivalent of how i handle rejection.
especially when i add, i’ve been begging God for a good poem for 4 months, but the words were stolen from me.
it was time God heard about them and the beautiful hearts they have. it was time i looked passed the wounds with their names on them.
do you ever feel so free you want to look them in the eyes? you want to feel your lips say, “I forgive you”?
it’s like finally writing a poem. it’s like finally opening up the rugs and your own hands jump out, thanking you for forgiving yourself.