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Stick to GodSticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me.
What a lie.
Words are the greatest weapon,
Shattering the heart.
Becuase she smiles and laughs,
She is happy.
Maybe you're wrong.
The smiles may be a mask,
Hiding her deepest pain.
He has everything you could want,
His life is perfect.
There is more.
If he does not have God,
He doesn't not have what is most important.
Though the words shatter hearts,
God fixes them.
Though she is in pain,
God heals her.
Though he has much,
God will give him what is most important.
God is our all in all.
He protects us.
All of us
Whether you believe or not.
A Passing FlowerWhat did I know of true love,
unapprenticed to blush nosegays,
luscious lips, her cinnamon curls?
Too inept to craft soft letters,
crushed beneath her lover's balm.
She'd pick me off rueful, teary,
from the park, weary of the world.
I'd lie there for moments, minutes,
lifetimes; quietly dying,
cradled in the palm of a dream.
What did I know of true love?
Passing prosaic puckered petal,
soothing her mildew passions,
loving to be left out of doors;
playing second fiddle all my life.
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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