2 posts
  • chaos2art_and_backagain 11w

    Patched Together

    Darling, I beg you not to hide your tattered hems from my view.
    I know the other girls may have told you they were unsightly, that you should be fixed, replaced, or thrown out all together.
    Perhaps they said you were ruined or too damaged to be repaired; inevitably walking away leaving you worse then they had found you.

    Oh, but dear heart if I could give you my eyes if only for a moment.
    Your strength and beauty astounds me.
    You are not torn apart but slowly healing from the many daily battles you fight in silence.
    They are battle scars, my love, you should wear them with honor.
    I see the wisdom in your mercy filled eyes, the fights you lost brought understanding that a constant victor never receives; such a calm quiet courage sits there.
    Oh, and how I love your laugh lines. I know some say they age you but, I know you have earned them in the midst of sorrow, letting your joy and happiness carve itself on your skin; it is something so captivating to me.
    You say you are scared you will never come clean enough for another, that you will only soil those you get close to.

    You say you fear being too destroyed to be salvaged, unable to be sewn back together, unable to be attached to another without coming apart again.

    Oh but dear one, that was never a job for us to fulfill. Let me show you my edges that have been frayed for years and the stains that set in long ago.
    Let us go together to the one who can fix all, the taylor who can mend even the most beautifully broken.
    Let him patch us back together.
    A new creation from ripped clothing.


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  • chaos2art_and_backagain 11w

    The Eye of the Storm

    It has been a while since this feeling in my chest has come.
    The shortness of breath, the cyclone of thoughts spinning too fast to hold on to a single one.
    The rapid sound of my heart beat echoing in my head; some days, I wonder if it will just give out, sick of its ever quickening tempo.

    I don't know why I come out here to the fringes of the storm, I suppose that's where all this backsliding gets me.
    They say the calmest point of a hurricane is the eye of the storm, I know that is where you reside here in this corrupted plane. 

    I must fight through the crushing weight of guilt and the constant push back of my own pride as though they are high powered winds, so that I may find you once more. 
    I beg, help me to praise you through these storms; songs of your salvation drowning out the roaring winds of fear that surround me. 

    Yet I still seem to collapse with you just out of reach . 
    That is when I cry to you with the last bit of breath left in my lungs.

    There is but a single terrifying moment that I lay there, dying. 
    Then I feel your hands, gentle, strong, and kind.
    They lift me from the ground that was moments ago my grave and hold me close. 
    Your arms have forever been the only place I ever feel I truly belong. 
    So please keep me here with you, here where it's all so clear. 
    And when I inevitably leave once again, help me to carve you into my soul so that I may not stray