is the way to beat your leering childhood
and your burned hopes and dreams
in the ash of your home.you think that anger and bitterness,
formed in the roots of cussing and cursing what you used to love
is enough to claim your identity,
your personhood that no one let you have
for so long.
all your fought-over beliefs that were overwritten to manipulate your mind
at the state of the world
a three-year storm raging
that never expired
but I think, maybe
adulthood, to you, is the ability to not be taken in by anything good:
gullibility was a personal curse,
and between sins of mother and father
all you have
is your trapped anguished self.
unfair of a loving God.
so obviously, this broken world
means that He has abandoned it for the next.
there is only the burning rain.
and I don’t have words to make real
how the world is broken — but not just that.
the world is haunted by beauty:
full of whispers and hair-raisings and echoes
and yet you stopped listening to ghosts and peace
amidst pain and anger and the burden of others’ happiness around your neck.
He split open a tombstone.
He does not call you worthless.
peace will never come from chasing anger and pain and absorbing it. He already took the wreckings of sin.
You can crawl out of
the graveyard the asylum the bone-rattling hatred
broken but alive.
you can find a stream of water and put down roots.
come and drink from the water again.
come be a child haunted by beauty again.
come run in the fields again, into the green and gold.
come love without fear and accept love without a price, without bribes or bitterness or twisting of hearts.
He calls you and I worthy (even with busted-up hearts).