I’ve attempted to communicate with God every morning. I’ve laid everything down multiple times. I’ve prayed until I was sure to be floating. I have run until I cried, fallen to my knees and asked God to pick me up. I have surrendered and re-surrendered my future, and it’s still not enough; not because God is not enough, but because everything I want is in vain.
Material rips at my veins, and even when it’s shredded, it still stings.
Every piece of clothing,
Every cap to every bottle,
Every penny sinks in fire or smoke, or water, or mud, or a pocket warm from innocent bloodshed.
Because words are power and power to kill is in the tongue,
And because we have it all, and it’s never enough until it’s gone.