You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?

No poem today. Today I’m just kind of mind dumping away. I hate that I struggle the ways that I do. I want to be free, laying all my cares at His feet, anew

I wish there was a place for me somewhere, somewhere I can belong. Somewhere my quirks aren’t seen as flaws or evidence my existence is wrong. I want to be alone with Him forever, singing my praises in song. I want to shelter under His care and forget I must remain strong.

what can I do to make this easier I hate when I have to pretend. My heart broke long ago and I wonder if it can ever mend. Unwanted, unloved, a mess , much too old, too colored to defend. Yet much too young to garner basic human respect, a hand they would not lend.

I am not ashamed to be Gods creation

nor am I ashamed to exist, I’m at peace with my situation

All I can hope for now is reprieve from all temptation, that way I can focus on sharing my joyful elation

I’m alive! What a blessing

too many obstacles and trials that test me

in His shadow, you’ll find me resting

the fruits of his grace, I’ll be injesting

thriving, surviving, no more hiding

I want to see all the world

I want to share my childlike awe

At every flower bud, unfurled

I supposed I did rhyme after all, the words come to me like water from a waterfall, I sign off with a prayer that I can overcome this and any other fall; heal the pieces that remain so I can stand tall

Selah