A Broken Heart, A Mended Soul


The way it's playing out makes me want to kick and scream,And run and hide,And erase and rewrite.  Trust? What is trust? When it all seems so wrong, So undesirably twisted,Full of incessant shame. This isn't my namesake.I was made for more.I was made for fame and success,But now I'm tired and alone and all-around less.   A mistake? Yes, a mistake.Clearly not enough,Not what I need to be,Not what he wants.  he, yes, he. I am not what he desires,I am mistakably made,Undoubtedly, so utterly betrayed.  I am not who I want to be,I am not who I need to be.I am not who he wants me to be,I am not who he needs me to be.I am not.I am not.    But I Am. The Great, the Mighty, the Perfect I Am.He chases and pursues,He loves and fights and begs us to choose.  So Jealous. So Jealous. Jealous for my heart, The heart that was made so mistakably.The heart full of incessant shame.  Grace? What is Grace? Given so freely and wholly,Undeservingly and relentlessly, To strike the lies right out of me.  Pursuit? What is pursuit? Fighting for my heart,Fighting for my life,Fighting for my praise.  He, yes, He. I am only what He desires,I am made for more than this chapter,Undoubtedly, so utterly sought after. He, yes, He.No need to erase,No need to rewrite,This, after all, is what saved my life. 

This poem is about: