She is loved and not her own

This was written right after a big fight my dad and I had. After writing, I felt calm, at ease, raw & renewed. He is a good, good God.

Earlier today, I sensed something bad would happen to me.

I shrugged it off"“God doing such thing isn’t likely.”

Then the events unfolded, and I was stuck between the creases of how and why,

When I reminded myself, unequal are the passage and landing of my outcry.

My anger stemmed from self-fulfillment,

My hurt originated from a loving daughter’s testament:

To protect her daddy’s heart from a horrific end,

While her own was bruised and twisted at an ugly bend…

She did not care. Her heart was not her own.

Yet at her darkest she acts as a pompous queen upon her throne;

Change it. Change her destructive way,

For in my Papa’s eye in heaven, a tear cannot stay,

When He watches His beloved children,

Fight for bread crumbs like angst-ridden pigeons.

He moans, “I have a warm loaf right here, over the fire,

To give it to you is my heart’s desire.”

“Broken,” a throaty whisper of an apology,

Escapes me as I lament over the night’s chronology.

He sighs, “The pieces of your heart I will pick up,

But the dark of the world, I have drunk from my golden cup.

Only let me dwell in that"for you are my beauty I sowed from the dust.

Collapse into my unwavering arms, and turn in all of your trust.”

Author's Note

This is a one-shot thing, meaning I did not take the time to do any extensive look-over or perform any serious edits.

Reviews

[Barbara Lynne]

beautifully written...a pleasure to read