Lord, forgive me
for I am neither stone nor flame,
just a tethered wind,
caught between the gnash of worlds.
I have not known the right prayers to fold
into the creases of my skin,
nor carried light without bruising it.
I have swallowed the silence,
hoping it would transform into something
sharper than regret,
but it clung to me like a child afraid of the dark.
Forgive me for shaping the void into gods
and kneeling before shadows
when the weight of my own heart became too heavy.
I have named stars and forgotten them
as if they were only ash,
drifting away in some unseen breath.
Lord, forgive me
for not knowing how to hold this life
without breaking pieces of it,
for I have mistaken dust for redemption,
and let the sun set too many times
before asking if I could rise.
