forgetting the hope of my soul

today, i purge
myself from love
of stale words—
a wall across my room
holds a pile of what is
hardest to let go: words
i swear i’ll return to. call
me a silly girl, but they’ve
held captive my soul & God
no loner has room to move
about His home. i’ve closed
all the windows,

fmf prompt: hope. sometimes you don’t know how full your soul is until you’re going through books. the hardest thing for you to let go, even though you’re not reading pretty much any of them. and soon you have a stack above the base board, with your own book and magazine you were published in, all to get rid of. and only a shelf and a few books under the bed to keep. but you kind of want to get rid of every book and stare at emptiness for awhile. this makes me question Jesus: what is wrong with me? it feels easy, but it’s not. it’s like i’m sacrificing. that’s what this is. and in the fight, there’s a tiny bit of joy.

like i’m room for Jesus to breathe His love.

2 thoughts on “forgetting the hope of my soul

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