if i ask you a question
at 3 a.m
please forgive me for the weight of my words.
i’ve been intoxicated by my coffee and poetry
and the music has been circulating through my veins.
at this time of night,
my tongue is controlled by my heart
i blurt out words i know i should hold back.
i think i was sick of thinking it was all in my head
so i wrote it all down on paper.
i’ve had too much coffee and i’m left to
write my wakefulness away.
i don’t mind being up until 3 a.m,
it’s actually quite nice to
have the night sky as my lullaby.
when i’m ready,
i will greet my pillow with the satisfaction
that no words went unwritten today.
to every ache that rattled my veins:
i should not have let you steal from me,
i should not have let you dig your hands into my soul.
thank you for showing me that i am strong.
because of you,
i have learned how to fall on my knees and pray.
you meant to drown me,
but i was already drowning in Gods grace.
thank you for pointing me to my savior.
it’s funny how i open my mouth
just to hesitate
yet can’t stop finding the words
to write on paper.
they tell me
that i am beautiful
and carry this beauty modestly
but every time they tell me this i wonder if
it’s truly humility or disbelief.
i am too proud
to tell you of my brokenness
because i am what you pictured strength to be.
if i fall,
i don’t want to take you with me.