we long a narrow way

my name is
to the masses.
yet, how i crave,
when my soul
will never be
able to handle
such a load.
glory isn’t mine
to have and hold,
binding myself in
holy matrimony
Jesus promises
his burden is light –
yoke easy— it is
the gift of intimacy
worldly eyes were
never asking see.

what comes out when i write sometimes confuses me. like this probably has a lot to do with what i’m reading. makes me wonder if i’ll ever get into fiction ever again.


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