Teardrops of reality,
Pouring down my face,
Spinning cycles of banishment,
From the thoughts that hold me captive.

Pacing the floor of sorrow,
Trying to restore my essence…
Missing my innocence,
From before my fall.

Marrying of the outer and inner,
A shotgun wedding not well planned,
Longing for the days,
When I wasn’t a stranger.

Screaming into the silence,
A solvent not well dissolved,
Praying to the only God,
Who will give resolution.

Published by Jenn Till Lee Copyrighted, all rights reserved.

Writing poems as an outlet for healing. My hope is in Christ

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