I keep forgetting that i can't cut God out of me.
I have swallowed his words. I know they are true.
No matter how sharp my knife;
no matter how deep the cut;
God and his words will flow through me,
they are deeper then me,
they are deeper then you,
they are deeper then us all.
I have torn the pages out of this book,
tied them together and swallowed them down;
i'm fishing gods words from my insides.
I have vomited these pages up,
I have swallowed them again.
I have circled words.
I have Memorized lines.
I have looked as deep as my eyes will let me.
And when i stand back,
all i see is
"I own YOU. I own THEM. I own HER. I own EVERYTHING and EVERYONE."
So I have torn the pages out of this book,
tied them together
and formed a noose.
The ink has left a permanant stain on my neck from trying to own myself.
come close, see for yourself.
The ink has left a permanant stain on my hands from fighting and fighting these words away, trying to show God that i own me, that i own myself. When will We own ourselves completely? When will these pages break the grip they have around me?
My lighter won't burn the wet pages.
This book was tied to my ankle.
It dragged me down
and held me under.
The light has since faded.
the fire has since been put out.
He still owns me.
and he knows that i will see the light again.
will i take it in?
will i build it up?