The Lie we Lay In

Living and breathing, the act of it,

The subtle cues, the silenced signal,

The weight of words never spoken,

Time as a kaleidoscope of possibilities.

The separation by millimeters as we cool,

Our passion shifting from flame to ember,

Pretending loss is nowhere near,

We name the little deaths as sighs that fade.

Though I raged, wept, pleaded, and prayed,

Still I find myself alone again,

A woman unwanted, cast aside as refuse,

Unseen, unheld…save by Father and self.

Now the nights are long and the lights low,

We share a space that is repose, not rest,

The luminescent love has dimmed like sleep,

We lie within the lie of love, and weep.

It is hard to remind the heart of its worth,

When evidence whispers otherwise,

When the nearest, meant to be dearest —

Is drifting further, further still.

How do we sustain the spark?

Hold hope when despair comes knocking?

Or when wicked ways deny our worth,

And death becomes the prayer we breathe?

I have no answers.

My hands are empty, aching —

And yet,

I am held in Hands not empty,

Resting in His Fullness.