Freely, May I Speak?

Here’s the truth;
carpeted floor has never felt more of
home.

Isn’t home where you’re most alone?
I’m sorry-it’s what I’ve seen, what I know.
Where else can a frightened soul here behold stillness–apologies becoming a cornerstone.
Crying heart doesn’t please the wolves surrounding places Love seeks to brighten deficiency.

If I am to verbalize, I wish it to be set in ink-my voice fails, where on paper, I find rest.

I don’t speak the same as when I talk-
yes, I still collect my thoughts before each, but in this silent act,
my heart lends utmost guidance.

In talk, ego & arrogance find strength, promising to stay betrothed to me,
my breath always stolen in the midst of my own righteous speech.

Speaking now, quiet captures what hastiness may not, would not-repentance of truthful thoughts for which my tongue would rather hold tight.

Understanding can’t come from all, this I know,
depth writes itself
where the world charts unknown;
mind, body & soul.

Where a savior has died
to make His home

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