Live to write, writing to live. Do good by being good at it. Love concurs all.
I have a pain in my chest, gut wrenching pain that won't go away. I pray for forgiveness every moment of my day. I hurt those that I love.
I failed them, this failure I never wanted to be.
Why couldn't I? I couldn't be a mother to my children, a wife to my husband. I even let the cat down. Alone I take responsibility. By myself I let love slip through the cracks of my hand. My thoughts are torture. I wonder what they think of me.
Abandoned, no one to call home. For what? What was it all for? There is no good found. Please God, I plead God, suffer me no more, or let me start over. Give me the chance to change. Heal me from this unbearable break. I'm not well with feelings of despair, In a world that is created from it.
I need to know that I am forgiven, feel that i am. I want my home. The shambles I left. Though the pieces are many, the foundations still there. Not enough glue, not enough scotch tape to do the trick. Can't sow it together, don't know how to hemm. Reaping the consequence. Weary from running, can't catch a second wind. If you don't do something the demon will win.
How sweet the smell.
"Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it."
— Mark Twain
© 2018 Stacy Ingram vizcarrondo