My body is not normal-
tortoise legs & jack rabbit mind.
I walk carefully, cautiously with
thoughts pulling blinders over my eyes,
tomorrow is coming soon.
Better make a decision quick, they say.
I feel the poison, seeping from constant
television screens where demand is hurry.
My mouth aches to scream, “I wasn’t born that way!”
Those caffeinated faces wouldn’t mind,
unable to hear through glass prisons we all so promptly lock ourselves into without need for a key.
Why is it so easy to cripple our minds while our bodies waste in things meant to pass away?
My Lord, how You look at me with such longing-a husband for his bride- willingness to love despite the twisted bone limbs I so desperately wish to erase.
Acceptance of imperfection is
surrender a broken earth will never
volunteer to preach.