Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.85

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

O God of blistered stars and silence,
I crawl to You with blood beneath my nails—
Not theirs, my own.
I tore at shame like bark from skin,
But it rooted deeper still.

Do You see me now?
A cathedral of cracked marrow,
Where hallelujahs rot before they bloom—
I cannot pray without trembling.

The night — I dare not name it —
Stitched its name into my bones.
I wore it like a second skin,
And called it mine.
Why?
Why did I whisper yes to the no
That echoed only inside?

Forgive the crooked way I carry blame.
I molded sin from what was taken,
Painted scarlet where there should be soot.
I thought I wept enough,
You might call it penance.

But still I hear the saints and their eyes.

Was I not made in Your image?
Then why do I only see cracks
When I look through Your glass?

Tell me—
Can mercy reach beneath this ruin,
Past the altar of my trembling,
Where I laid down innocence
Like a lamb too small for fire?

If You are the well,
Then I am dust pleading for rain.

If you are love—
Oh, God, if You are love—
Then reach me how to forgive
What wasn't my sin.

Break me open, if You must,
But not in wrath. In rain.
In the hush between thunder and healing.
Make me something soft again—
Something Yours.

Let me breathe without apology.
Let me stand, if not pure, then held.
Let me be more than what was done.

Please.
Even now,
I am still reaching.

Gather my ruin in Your sovereign hands.
Amen.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required