radian

ra • di • an


(n) 1. [geometry] a unit of angle, equal to an angle at the center of a circle who’s arc is equal in length to it’s radius.

Oxford Dictionaries

I accept and I Let Go(d.) 

of the cancerous 

131 pain with no gain

hurt in no worth 

decay of yesterday show. 

131 is sinning not winning 

hesitated dedication

of a ruse (hu)man

fused in quicksand, 

for these wrong two;

from a community

with no humility 

or unity for humanity.

wrong she + this he

will never be better

or Your Together.

three hundred 

and sixty-five 

days later: 

these two 

are legally tied in 

the lying standstill

with no godly gills.

walking the sinful talking

of cheap mr. and mrs. thrills

these two drink

in a thinking sink,

where God is aware

of their lack of attacking

self care in His Beware

to be discerning with yearning 

in aggressive protection

to handle God’s Business.

these two pathologically lied

and publicly died on the inside.

this combusted rust of lust

has a stench that cannot drenched

or covered by their wedding rings

these two wear, 

because they stink and sting.

this he truly doesn’t care 

or stare at wrong she lovingly.

this he would be content 

with this wrong she to flee.

the cow was easily free so the milk

from this wrong she has no speciality.

this he sees a faceless pussycat

that wears an ugly backwards hat.

so many felines purred before 

on the ground and floor to this he’s fur,

there’s nothing special about this wrong she

just a predictable brainless routine,

that’s mean, lean, and glean

featuring a very tired and wired 

mrs. 17, who’s stuck in a rut.

the twist and shift of biblical

to sinful she who findeth not he

didn’t work out for wrong she

even in this 131 matrimony. 

this he doesn’t love this wrong she

this he was intoxicated and felt liberated

in flesh god facades, that this he bought

the hype of this sinning not winning mirage

with this 131 savage not godly marriage. 

this wrong she thought she bought free

with this he to look godly 

in this sinning of no matrimonial winning.

a real anniversary of God-ordained 

wouldn’t need the woman to swallow

a hallow empty allow or rearrange 

from the wrong bow

in the cower of premarital sex.

where this wrong she immediately

lost this he’s respect.

respect and love are synonymous.

this he that God says is for me 

will never love this wrong she godly.

Godly is only done correctly

by His Path to Correct Math: 

3 Strand Kingdom Band Destiny.

these two are wrong hues that 

will never be Your True. 

131 is not a God-Ordained Anniversary 

131 is sinning not winning cryosurgery.

when wrong she 

became mrs. to this he 

is really 

a cold splash of reality 

in the hiss and diss that 

hit this wrong she finally.

this he went on a 

four month fast dating track

when in reality this wrong she 

is a distractive satanic attack.

all parties involved in this pitfall

pressed send in pretend 

to no holy matrimony for

these two that will never be His True.

all of wrong she’s plans evaporated 

in quicksand. God said no,

and God showed wrong she 

in the three hundred and 

sixty-five day of decay journey

that what God says goes.

this he knows it’s time to go.

this wrong she is in denial but has no

more tricks up wrong she’s 

deep creep sleeve of toxicity.

God will part this Red Sea 

when God is ready.

there is nothing this wrong she

can do to make wrong she His True.

wrong she will always be the Haggai

that made this he, God says is for me

flesh god facade die, so this he can be

ready for His Sarah who will always be me.

he + He + her is God’s Stir and Destiny.

God is the only creator that will ever write

the love story of a man and his wife.

God is the radian of this he and me.

God is the radian arc that revives 

and thrives the he + her 

from all angles and sides.

no matter the shake, break, or

fake with great stake in 

His Make-Ups. 

God is the arc like Noah’s Arc

that sparks all this ugly dark.

God is the arc like Noah’s Arc

that defused the ruse of 

131 fun in no godly sun school

to show and let this he grow

that returning to vomit is being

a disagreeing fool not cool.

131 fun in no godly sun 

is to make this he run godly,

not just go through 

his godly maturation.

God’s intentionality 

in this 131 flesh god facade 

was always be for this he 

to finally be set free;

and never fall for the pitfall 

of a wrong she

in a worldly wedding 

ungodly matrimony [ever again.]

Only God writes Happily Ever After.

The Cross of Calvary 

is the greatest example ever. 

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intentionality 

Dear Daddy,

You are doing the most; but I love you, and say yes even though apart of me is over walking by talking this blind faith. I as this she you keep saying is for this he, gets no tangibility but this he gets maps on top of maps. This is a phallus palace world. It doesn’t matter what phallus sways, humans obey and stay where the phallus plays. I’m so over it. I’ve never seen phallus power like in this he, that you God keep saying is for me. This he completely freaks me out. I’ve convinced myself that this he wasn’t real. I had to, because I wanted my sanity back. I’ve lost my mind, my three mental breakdowns was preparation for all of this. Those felt like cupcakes in comparison to the last three years I’ve walked through. 

This he has a phallus power like the midnight hour. This he is like a Tower of Babel that makes my stake in fake press play in scrabble. That’s why you’re doing the most God. This he changed my life completely, the tenth month of the year two thousand thirteen. I went in that building that now has no godly wings, just wanting the hue that is true: You. I didn’t even ask you for anything else. I went to you the very night before, crying out how broken I was. I told you how afraid I was to get it wrong again with another wrong man. I told you I couldn’t handle another wrong relationship. I could not survive having another wrong man have my body. I told you God I can’t walk through that brokenness anymore. 

I begged you to protect my eyes, ears, and heart to never ever fall for a pitfall. Especially a lustful pitfall with another wrong man, that would bleed a weed of sinful quicksand. I needed my ex-“boyfriend” to be my sixth jar to break. I was in no mindset for a he far less this he you keep saying is for me. God you showed me this he in intentionality, which was apart of my purposive journey to switch in the gift of today. God you defused my ruse of single-hood philosophy after this he made his hit it and quit it swim in sin with wrong she, the 131 legalized-lie that makes them both die on the inside. After this he decided to infuse this muse of 131 fun in no godly sun, with wrong she that will never be me.

in • ten • tion • al • i • ty

(n) 1. the fact of being deliberate or purposive. 

pur • pos • ive

(adj) 1. having, serving, or done with a purpose.

“Teaching is a purposive activity.” 

Oxford Dictionaries

Daddy I actually love teaching. I don’t love the nonsense that I have to deal with, but I do love teaching and reaching these children. This and being natural is totally working out and making sense. Everything else I have yet to see but you keeping talking and walking me through this unseen destiny, supposedly with this he who you won’t stop saying is for me. Even though, this he is currently in a 131 cancerous reality, you God still want me to see this he + me will be Your Three because that is what you see. I don’t know how to have intentionality to see your three with this he. 

This so hard for me. None of this is easy. I’m gone from that toxic throng of sinning no winning night no unity community that pays attention to apprehension. As long as that building has robotic mixed drinks black tee kool-aid kids, then the fact that no godly wings are the be and the see can continue to be ignored freely. That building that has no godly wings is on a replay in a decay of many yesterdays that’s on rotation, from the fearful hesitation of humans that stick to the ugly known in returning to their own vomit. 

I can’t do it. I can’t publicly claim a he that is hard for me to see is for me. Because this same he decided to walk a talk and path that lead him to the shoes he’s in now. I’m beautiful God. It took me 33 years to finally see I’m beautiful on the inside and out. Now I’m walking my 34th year of life because of your blessing to revive me by reaching and teaching me to not just survive but thrive. Why does this he have to be for me now? I’m finally okay with his decay in yesterday. 

The same way you supernaturally put this he in my heart you can take him out. You can do anything. Why can’t things just be different? Why couldn’t you God give me different? I don’t look forward to love, a wedding, an engagement, nothing romantic for myself. It doesn’t matter anymore. Jojo* thinks I can just magically walk through these emotions and just be okay with what you keep telling me and showing me and I’m not. I’m not okay with any of it. I think love is bull now. Because too many of your humans walked in intentionality and spat on God ordained marriages like sinful savages. It’s not okay. So I’m not okay. Who knows if I ever will be after everything. 

I do know that I love reaching and teaching your youth. 

I do know that I love teaching your youth biblical truth.

I know that I love my family, and my friends are my family too. 

I know that I love your people because you taught me too.

That’s all I can walk with intentionality in. That’s all I can handle at this point. Everything else is too much you are saying, and not enough doing. All of this feels like an electronic collar that shocked me one too many times where I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it’s the expectation. 

I’m severely scarred, and forever changed by this diabolical 131 worldly not godly savage ‘marriage.’ I have ptsd, and I’m triggered easily. I had no intentions on being this transparent on how affected I was/am, by that building with no godly wings, and wrong wedding rings that sting. You’re God so none of this shocks me. Even if this he ain’t for me, which is easier at this point, whatever he you have I feel bad for. That’s why I am cool with being single. It’s easier, and far safer for my heart, so you can spare whatever son of yours. Jojo can have her ribcage, and be happy. She deserves it, and I want her to be. I don’t know anymore about me. As for you? I still choose to lose the world boldly not coldly. I still choose to fight in through your Light with purposive teaching by reaching in intentionality. 

I love you Daddy.

Love your daughter.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy

Generational-curses

Dear Daddy,

Thank you for everything. I truly mean that. I finally make sense to myself. The lifelong quest on needing more, and believing everything happens for a purpose; because you God are in the Hidden Details, where evil will never be a long term pale scale to prevail. Since 4.4.14, (404) I made a switch to the gift of today, and allowed my final bow to remove the groove in the decay of yesterday, by feeling the peeling reeling in the sorrow of no tomorrow. Thank you Daddy for shifting my focus to never be better or stronger in pride that hides the lies inside. Thank you for pruning and fine tuning me to see that my eyes always need to stay fixed on you. You’re the only hue that will ever be true and the reach that teaches me to not feed the weed that bleeds with broken need: generational-curses, which is my biggest fear.

this he you say is for me

is apart of the three strand 

Kingdom Band Destiny

this he zeroed in

on the sin of fiscal prosperity 

this he’s actions were about

the set up to no broke hiccups

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift

of today was about never 

being better in the pause 

of Your Cause

pausing causes worldly confetti 

that will never replace the space 

or disgrace of empty

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift 

of today realized the lie

that made me as she die inside

Love only comes from Above

not the allow of the sexual bow

Lust is from the hiss in the diss

me as a woman permitted 

which was a switch in the kiss

of death decay in yesterday 

now I as she who’s for this he

prays and stays in today

to never let the regret 

of generational-curses 

come near my God-Ordained

by my alignment to my assignments 

After my spiritual birthday, [4.4.14] I was focused on always saying okay in your obey. I wanted to know the Holy Bible immediately, but I quickly learned that I needed to be prayerful and discern to see You clearly. So I started praying aggressively, and you kept leading me to generational-curses. So I went and read Genesis, because it’s the foundation and the beginning of time. I had to read and meditate on this book a few times for it to really make sense supernaturally. Tangibly it’s a dense book that put me to sleep. But once I made the switch to fix my eyes supernaturally, I saw so much. 

Generational-curses is something you’ve pressed on my heart to truly comprehend supernaturally. So I looked at what sin through the umbrella of fear did, in the beginning of Genesis to the man, and the woman that was created just for him, [from his rib.] At first I didn’t get why the supernatural ordaining of two flesh becoming one, resonated with me so much. Now I walk through why so clearly because my testimony is a modern day Abram, Sarai and Haggai. 

Three years later: society has diluted the truth of biblical marriage, with the tangible retention man has no business paying attention to. Sex before marriage will never be God’s Three. It’s a hue that will never ever be His True. Man is impatient and easily falls into the pitfall of complacent. I had no clue in the beginning of my journey with you Daddy how much Abraham: the father of faith, would be so mirroring to my life regarding his ordained Sarah, and his worldly strife of fear and desperation Haggai. You showed me this he you keep saying is for me, the tenth month of the year two thousand thirteen. Far before the wrong she who positioned her condition in the fifth month of the year two thousand fifteen, as the worldly hue that’s not your true: today’s Haggai as wrong she. 

I actually meet this wrong she, far before this he that Daddy keeps saying is for me did. I will never forget seeing and picking up, how desperate this wrong she was to be seen and loved. I struggled with that when I was around this wrong she’s age too. There’s a level of maturation a woman needs to experience before she commits in a romantic relationship. A woman’s sisterhood of healthy God-fearing iron sharpening prepares women for their God-Ordained marriage. Jojo* and I are prepared because we focused on what God needed us to: Him and His will over our lives. Humans walking through their twenties is very challenging. Starting at 23, I made the wrong switch to allow the wrong bow, and have boys enter my space that eventually made me feel like a disgrace. Because a real man would never disrespect the temple of a woman before marriage.

I always hated sex because of my sexual assault. So the broken mind screw I did to myself was so unnecessary. But I’m so glad I experienced this, because my tests are now my Daddy’s testimonies he uses through me to set his other daughters free. God saying this he is made just for me, I feel for this wrong she because this 131 legalized-lie this wrong she aggressively fought for, makes her hide in lies that make her die inside. The more we lie as (hu)mans the deeper we sink in drinking quicksand. 

this he you say is for me

is apart of the three strand 

Kingdom Band Destiny

this he zeroed in

on the sin of fiscal prosperity 

this he’s actions were about

the set up to no broke hiccups

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift

of today was about never 

being better in the pause 

of Your Cause

pausing causes worldly confetti 

that will never replace the space 

or disgrace of empty

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift 

of today realized the lie

that made me as she die inside

Love only comes from Above

not the allow of the sexual bow

Lust is from the hiss in the diss

me as a woman permitted 

which was a switch in the kiss

of death decay in yesterday 

now I as she who’s for this he

prays and stays in today

to never let the regret 

of generational-curses 

come near my God-Ordained

by my alignment to my assignments 

That’s exactly what happened to this wrong she even before this he. She developed a reputation in that building, that no longer has godly wings: as a law of average sexual savage. In fact one Sunday, we sat next to each other in the earlier part of two thousand fourteen. I noticed she was staring hard in a direction, and my noisiness got the best of me, so I asked her what was she staring at. And this wrong she said she was looking at another man that is not this he, that God keeps saying is for me; so I looked and I recognized the he. This wrong she was saying how cute he was, and I’m like oh okay, and then she asked me if I found him cute I said he’s okay. I’m here for Jesus not a guy. 

I continued and said: A guy isn’t my focus, been there and it doesn’t end well. This wrong she looked at me weird, and I think I told this wrong she, if God isn’t picking the man I definitely won’t. That went over wrong she’s head. Fast forward to present time, I clearly see why now. This wrong she chased man after man until one stuck. The one that stuck was pounced by this wrong she, when this he that God says is for me was weak and vulnerable: extremely stressed and distracted by something, that brought a lot of attention to this he. Without this specific situation, this wrong she would never be in this he’s space as a mrs. disgrace. This wrong she does not get attention. Not even in the mrs. title wrong she put in work to get: In fact most don’t notice this wrong she. I’m surprised I did, the day I meet wrong she, not because I agree, with wrong she’s treatment, especially from this he God keeps saying is for me. 

Even after 131’s forced coursed operation, this he’s actions to this wrong she is: afterthought, indifference, cold, or distant. I can keep going but this he never showed with his actions any biblical representation of what love truly is: patient, kind, submissive, sacrificial; the godly list goes on to what love truly is. The reason for this painful season for both this he and wrong she is to see: that God needs to be in everything. And sex before marriage is never God’s plan for any of His Chosen. We must as saints on assignments practice stillness. 

Be still and know I am God. Psalm 46:10. I was in that building, that now has no godly wings, and you Daddy was my only focus. Too many of Your Chosen operated in tangible restlessness in that building. I only had tunnel vision for my God-given destiny; but I see that was you God only made me notice this wrong she deliberately, and you Daddy keep telling me about this he who is supposedly still for me. All I see is impatience, and a focus on money. That’s not what I’m focused on, and never will be. You’ve set me free Daddy to see godly: finally I get it. I want nothing to ruin my freedom Daddy. That’s why all of this gives me deep distress, and I gave you so much protests since day one. This he wanted fun with no godly sun, and got this sinning not winning, with the false prophet who made it hobbit in a community with no unity; by the matrimonial sinning not winning savage not marriage: with this wrong she, who will never be me. 

This he walked a cocky talk in the sixth month of the year two thousand fifteen, and put this he in a position where many noticed: this he was very vulnerable. Cocky is this he’s cloak to hide the painful no gainful lies that make this he die inside. When any human is vulnerable everything will make sense, especially if sex is involved. Sex was the drug this wrong she used as a love ruse to defuse the truth of combusted lust, as her plug in to get in this he’s space. Sex is a radiated rust, especially before marriage, like this he and wrong she experienced. Sex clouds the voice of God, and makes us break in a stake of prideful fake. Love isn’t a law of average savage. And love doesn’t mean sex before marriage. No woman should believe sex needs to occur before marriage. It doesn’t at all. I am not having sex before my wedding night. 

I have future sons and daughters to be an example for. Me going hard for God was always about my future generations, and not repeating generational-curses. God is love. And love comes from Above. The man in Genesis, cried out to God in loneliness. And God put him in a deep sleep, to remove his rib that created his woman: made just for him. 

this he you say is for me

is apart of the three strand 

Kingdom Band Destiny

this he zeroed in

on the sin of fiscal prosperity 

this he’s actions were about

the set up to no broke hiccups

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift

of today was about never 

being better in the pause 

of Your Cause

pausing causes worldly confetti 

that will never replace the space 

or disgrace of empty

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift 

of today realized the lie

that made me as she die inside

Love only comes from Above

not the allow of the sexual bow

Lust is from the hiss in the diss

me as a woman permitted 

which was a switch in the kiss

of death decay in yesterday 

now I as she who’s for this he

prays and stays in today

to never let the regret 

of generational-curses 

come near my God-Ordained

by my alignment to my assignments 

There was a level of stillness God needed this man to be in, so God put him in a deep sleep; to have him go through a pain with gain, because God healed him. And he woke up to see his woman, from his rib. God’s sons need to be pruned and prepared for their rib: that only God tells them is for only them. Women need to understand what is for us, will always be for us. We can’t make a man ours if God isn’t in the equation. Even if God is in the equation, we still can’t. Only God can turn a stone heart to flesh. That’s what this wrong she did with this he, she’s now in a legalized-lie. This wrong she’s mrs. title makes wrong she die on the inside. 

He who findeth a good wife, findeth a good thing. Proverbs 18:22. The man has to do the chasing and courting not the woman. This wrong she chased and courted this he God says is for me. Sadly today’s society has diluted this biblical truth, and allow God’s daughters to take the wrong bow. 

I don’t have to chase the man God says is for me. He will come to me, it’s in the Bible. That clicked for me from jump Daddy. Since my walk with you Daddy. I never positioned myself with any man. I never clocked any man, and I definitely never planted any seeds, that are really wrong weeds; which would make me bleed. There’s no need for any of that, because no matter what humans execute or do, what is for you is only for you. 

I watched this wrong she: never practice stillness. I watched this wrong she throw herself at a few men, besides this he that God keeps saying is for me. I even saw this wrong she on social media chase this he she’s now in a legalized-lie in, and this he ignored this wrong she. All of it made me cringe. So when this wrong she and he popped up from their secret layer of sinful lust in sex:  is a combusted lust; I knew it was a joke, and it was evident that the “love” was lust, sex, and drugs: [alcohol.] But what tripped me up was the so called church community turning a blind eye to the sinning not winning sexual lie. 

1 Corinthians 13: clearly breaks down love waits. If a man cannot wait to have sex with you before he marries you, then he doesn’t respect you. So if a man cannot respect your temple what makes you think that he can love you? Respect is earned if the pants that women wear drops, without any effort from the man to earn to be in this space: a woman’s temple? There will always be a level of disrespect. Only God stepping in, and working in both the man and the woman that’s meant to be, not what man from flesh god facades, puts together based off the disgrace in the sinful lustful space of disgrace. 

Only God will restore what was once stolen and lost. Like God did for the man and the woman in the beginning of Genesis: with the birth and death on the Cross of Calvary with Jesus Christ. I was too through with that building that now has no godly wings. But you made me stay longer then I wanted to Daddy. Reflecting on this decision now, I realized that my pain was deeper than the actions of this he. 

It was also about the scales that prevailed, because the enemy is witty and wants man in quicksand for eternity: sleepwalking not in our calling. Only you God can make all things new. I don’t know what you’re going to do about this diabolical sinning not winning 131 matrimonial mess. I do know I have peace, with whatever you decide Daddy. I’m set free from that ungodly building that make many sting: due to many wrong hues, which will never be true, in wrong wedding rings that will always sting. It’s not just the 131 matrimonial combust of lust. There’s many more. Thank you for reaching me to teach me to be set free: in peace that surpasses all understanding. 

this he you say is for me

is apart of the three strand 

Kingdom Band Destiny

this he zeroed in

on the sin of fiscal prosperity 

this he’s actions were about

the set up to no broke hiccups

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift

of today was about never 

being better in the pause 

of Your Cause

pausing causes worldly confetti 

that will never replace the space 

or disgrace of empty

me as the she that you say

is the switch in the gift 

of today realized the lie

that made me as she die inside

Love only comes from Above

not the allow of the sexual bow

Lust is from the hiss in the diss

me as a woman permitted 

which was a switch in the kiss

of death decay in yesterday 

now I as she who’s for this he

prays and stays in today

to never let the regret 

of generational-curses 

come near my God-Ordained

by my alignment to my assignments 

I love you forever my Daddy and King.

Love your daughter and servant.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy

.

__1flesh

Daddy,

This is so weird. I haven’t done this since last year. I pick up that you want me to walk through this writing a prayer for my pending three strand union. That’s what I’m choosing to do. Free-fall in this unnerving feeling pitfall. 

Love, 

Dreams, 

Trust,

and Believe

is the book God took me

to document for this he

and me, which makes 

His See of Three:

what you lead me to see. 

Regardless of this hiss

and diss of the poisonous kiss

by the now 131 legalized-lie 

of wrong she, who refuses 

to lose the ruse,

or flee from this he you keep

saying is for me, 

which feels 

like a reel,

talking and walking,

cheap creep thrill. 

neither this he or wrong she 

want His Gills or to let go

of this cancerous 131 show.

this wrong she confused 

the M you sent about me,

so this wrong she went on

a mission without Your Permission,

to a decay and delay in 

131 sinning not winning, 

matrimonial worldly 

coldly not boldly wedding operations.

wrong she decided to hide,

behind calculating lies,

that now causes wrong she to cry,

and internally die inside.

wrong she swallowed a hallow

wrong throng allowed bow.

where a decay she now wants to stay 

secretly with shame 

and no fame weed that bleeds.

From the premarital oral sex detested plough,

in the space that now has 

a disgrace no matter the mrs. title place,

this four month fast track 

was nothing but a pale scale attack.

the ms. to mrs. transition part,

never positioned this wrong she

in this he’s heart,

instead dead lead 

and far from this he,

who doesn’t see this wrong she,

because he doesn’t 

care to be aware or even stare.

there’s no glee for this he

just combusted toxicity.

wrong she took a vow to

bleed this wrong seed weed,

due to the hue of

wedding rings that truly sting,

from this risk taking 

engagement fling to wedding bling;

never became better or 

together, just the combust

of now faded lust, 

because lust will always be

the see of worldly radiated 

rust of this dissed hiss

131 wrong hue strand:

will always be a sinning 

no winning pitfall

residue in a sinful savage,

not godly marriage quicksand.

131 is a trip up in this 

wrong she + this he hiccup, 

in year one 

of worldly wedding vows,

is still not enough to stop 

the countdown clock,

which ends this 131 

cancerous chaotic,

toxic,

and robotic 

routined show.

this he doesn’t love 

or cover wrong she,

this truth has so much 

supernatural and tangible proof, 

still not enough for this wrong she

to stop pretending in sending,

mixed drink messages,

to a night community 

in a building with no godly wings.

that wants this wrong she to flee; 

because they too see: wrong she is

not meant to be with this he

who God keeps saying is for me.

I love you God. 

I believe in you God. 

God you’re my Daddy,

that I trust completely.

With my dreams and 

my fears from all these years, 

I silently and violently lied; 

I secretly died on the inside. 

I cultivated wrong he confetti 

that never sexually replaced 

the space or my disgrace in my empty. 

Every sex partner made me feel like a peel 

of radioactive decay, 

in the replay of yesterday; 

and the ongoing sorrow of no tomorrow. 

After you healed me from three suicidal attempts on my life, 

anorexia, 

and three mental breakdowns 

suffocating strife; 

I choose to be set free and finally see, 

you Daddy will always be for me.

I will walk through any talk 

you place in my space,

because you’ve freed me 

from the bondage of disgrace. 

In visions you give me a lot 

about your other children 

that you love deeply, 

and sometimes I want to 

pray for them to stop 

pressing send in pretend 

and be set free.

Yet other times you Daddy 

walk me through 

the ugly that needs 

to flee in my heart. 

Broken people break 

in a stake of fake, 

that makes us lie in disgust 

and want to take. 

Thank God you are a hue

that will always be true. 

Thank God you are bigger 

than the flesh god facade trigger.

Thank God you make all things new.

Thank God you rise dry bones.

Only you God move 

the groove of the past 

to no longer last.

And lift us in the switch 

of the gift in today by us 

saying okay to Your Obey.

Thank God you set us free.

To finally see and be godly. 

I know it’s wrong to want people [that hurt me or those I love] to suffer for eternity. Jesus forgave me, so who am I to not forgive those that hurt me to hide lies inside? I hurt people too, and whether they’ve bless me with forgiveness or not; forgiveness is what I’ve received, you still set me free Daddy. So when I walk through my reactive flesh, I confess my distress and protests. That’s when you shower me with the power of your midnight hour. Your grace and mercy always sets me free Daddy. __1flesh is what you have me zeroing in on, with this he that’s a struggle to believe is for only me. 

According to your biblical scripture in the book of Genesis: in the beginning God created man to be in His Perfect Image, and ruler of all dominion on all creatures of Earth. Okay Daddy, but humans are self sabotaging, destructive impatient imbeciles with severe god complexes. I’m at the top of that list, yet I’m somehow changing into this human I completely don’t recognize, which blows my mind. I truly no longer feed stronger, in the paralyzing prison of the rewind in time, by my broken token mind. Never would I have ever imagined, being set free from this decree; because to me this was my eternity. 

According to your scripture you hate divorce Daddy. You also hate sin. And you really hate blatant disobedience. I have a theory that you keep supernaturally showing me Daddy: divorce is a result of humans going ahead of you God; and not allowing you Daddy to strip us, of what will make us combust from sinning, that will never be winning. Like the 131 legalized-lust combusting rusting operations, and that couple that I dreamt about on the fifth month of the year two thousand sixteen. As I draw closer to you, I see the current events of this world’s blatant disrespect. I’m so baffled by the fact you’re not saying flip it: let me Sodom and Gomorrah this planet. Like I’m really bothered humans are still tripping in their quicksand sinful slipping. I’m like well I’m not lost; I’m found, and I know where I’m going after my eyes close from this prison called earth. 

Earth is an elision of lukewarm sin, where societal and cultural habitual routines, created a disgraced space called normalcy. Normalcy is a toxicity that’s worldly, in areas like premarital sex and fornication. 131 is now a marriage and result of the worldly savage baggage of premarital sex. 131 is a result of this hissed dissed operational sinning not winning tailspin. When did that ‘oops my bad I’m sinning,’ become a cute worldly winning? I don’t get it Daddy, at all. It’s gotten so blatantly disrespectful in buildings with no godly wings, where man created a quicksand to stand, and lie in a die called worship worldly: coldly not boldly, like the building you pulled me and Jojo* from. These buildings are all a unilateral elision of omission from the submission of The Holy Spirit. Yet they’re called church. 

I love you God. 

I believe in you God. 

God you’re my Daddy,

that I trust completely.

With my dreams and 

my fears from all these years, 

I silently and violently lied; 

I secretly died on the inside. 

I cultivated wrong he confetti 

that never sexually replaced 

the space or my disgrace in my empty. 

Every sex partner made me feel like a peel 

of radioactive decay, 

in the replay of yesterday; 

and the ongoing sorrow of no tomorrow. 

After you healed me from three suicidal attempts on my life, 

anorexia, 

and three mental breakdowns 

suffocating strife; 

I choose to be set free and finally see, 

you Daddy will always be for me.

I will walk through any talk 

you place in my space,

because you’ve freed me 

from the bondage of disgrace. 

In visions you give me a lot 

about your other children 

that you love deeply, 

and sometimes I want to 

pray for them to stop 

pressing send in pretend 

and be set free.

Yet other times you Daddy 

walk me through 

the ugly that needs 

to flee in my heart. 

Broken people break 

in a stake of fake, 

that makes us lie in disgust 

and want to take. 

Thank God you are a hue

that will always be true. 

Thank God you are bigger 

than the flesh god facade trigger.

Thank God you make all things new.

Thank God you rise dry bones.

Only you God move 

the groove of the past 

to no longer last.

And lift us in the switch 

of the gift in today by us 

saying okay to Your Obey.

Thank God you set us free.

To finally see and be godly. 

I love you Daddy so much. 

Love your daughter.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy

Trust without borders

Dear Daddy,

I didn’t think I had to write about this dream, but surrendering the mindset that things will come to the grave with me is not in the bible. You didn’t trust me with the gifts and abilities that you do for me to take anything to my grave. One of the greatest lessons in this pruning process is when I speak: I’m Your Weak and Meek, because you supernaturally step in and part The Red Sea.

You did it with my grades last semester. Getting a 2.8 was humbling, because I’m not a thugget and I don’t have anything. I can’t thug out in my pain anymore. I can’t keep hurting Jojo,* my family, and my other sisters who love me with my diligent selfish silent cries. They’re violent. Thank you for reaching me that I had to tell Jojo when I’m struggling to eat, because food used to repulse me. And when I’m having panic attacks.

If Jojo wasn’t there the night that Donald Trump was elected who knows what would’ve happened to me. I was paralyzed in panic. You supernaturally walked Jojo through doing exactly what I needed. I was stunned to silence. That’s the second time she saved my life. She will always be my best friend. Always no matter how many attacks satan attempts to enter our ordained sisterhood. the enemy will never separate us. We will always be resurrected stronger and wiser. Thank you Daddy for that conviction. Thank you for also teaching me how easily I shut down when I’m overwhelmed. Two thousand sixteen was an intense year emotionally, spiritually, and physically.

Emotionally because the blindside attacks, and triggers that were bigger than the gift in the switch of today showed me how much pain with no gain I was carrying all in vain. Ironically on the night that Donald Trump got elected, I was finally free from the night I was sexually assaulted at nineteen. That loop retired, because there’s no Troop better than you Daddy. Thank you for teaching and reaching me that everything has a blessing. Including the actions of that he you keep saying is for me.

Spiritually there’s an unexplainable connection to this he you Daddy keep saying is for me; and that makes no logical or tangible sense. But supernaturally I see he + He + her so clearly, with this he, me, and you as our Three God. I started changing the moment I laid eyes on this he you God keep saying is for me. I haven’t stopped changing no matter what reality currently seems to be. I don’t buy it and I never will no matter what humans tell me. God you allow what man in quicksand need to see: the bleed in broken token weeds, so the hallow swallow of no tomorrow is the final bow to Your Allow. The two wrong hues of these two will never be Your True.

131 is matrimonial sin, and a build up hiccup that the no unity night community will never be better together in the robotic crowds of that building with no godly wings. They’re lonely loud sounds, and walking in talking cloned drones. These humans feel empty sinning in the tailspin of worldly confetti. These humans are filled with cheap thrills and not Your Gills. These humans created the permeated standstill of no godly winning by a false prophet who made it hobbit in the decay of yesterday. The black tee kool-aid kids felt struck with luck in the rewind of time since the hiss and diss of year two thousand nine. It’s a dragon high that really died, but pride hides the lies deep like a cheap creep swelling inside. Kool-aid is not Jesus’ fine wine. Kool-aid is a mix drink. Jesus refused mix drinks on the Cross of Calvary. Thank you Daddy for being bigger than the trigger the black tee kool-aid kids feed with broken need.

Physically I am a new human. I’m a size four godly woman that loves the new wine skin that I am in. I take good care of my skin and my body, to the best of my ability. It’s challenging with the limited and deliberate funds of this current reaching by teaching season in that hot mess building. In building number two Daddy that’s a hot robotic mess too. I haven’t been this size since I ran track, debated, played volleyball, and baseball. I never thought that I would be this size again.

Then you parted the Red Sea just for me Daddy. I never thought I would be natural again. Taking care of my hair naturally for 15 years after my mom had no concept to take care of my hair got tiring. I said, flip it ok done, let my hair be broken: who cares, at least I’ll be able to comb it. Combs used to break in my hair and it was upsetting. But then the sixth month of the year two thousand sixteen, you pressed on my heart to go back to my original existence. So I did Daddy and I’m so happy I did. I’m a confident woman of God.

The dream I had the other night right before my birthday felt random. But today I accept nothing is ever random with you Daddy. The dream started with a replica of where I found you (again) God: in the building with no godly wings. There was a bench and some black tee kool-aid kids that were sitting on the bench including the he you say is for me. he was wearing headphones and laughing to himself. When I prayed over the dream by myself, and then with Jojo we came to the same conclusion: he’s protected, and no weapon formed against him will ever prosper. All prayers happening against your will Daddy are being rejected. Thank God.

This he you say is for me was sitting next to the wrong she you keep showing me Daddy will flee eventually, but what was between them was a cloud that this wrong she was trying to penetrate but couldn’t. And then you told me after I woke up Daddy that it was you. Amen to always working and moving. None of the other black tee kool-aid kids were wearing headphones, just the he you say is for me. There was pretentious laughter that seemed routined. Then I noticed the stage and there were performers, but not what used to be just a bad imitation. I immediately said you’ve upgraded me from this God. I outgrew this black tee kool-aid clique, which is why you’ve evolved my place of worship.

So I left and ended up in Trinidad. At first I didn’t know I was in Trinidad, which is the country my dad is from. You only revealed that detail to me last night Daddy. I definitely wouldn’t of connected that at first, because I saw one of my Asian Guyanese aunts. Guyana is where my mother is from. And I asked her why she didn’t call me back. And she coughed and it reminded me of the terrible cough on the voicemail she recently left me. Then you pressed on my heart to pray for her in the dream, and I haven’t stopped since. I pray I remember to call her today or soon.

In the dream she said something I can’t remember now, and I said oh okay. Then she told me she had something six months ago but it left, and she’s hoping it’s not coming back. What she told me was a word that started with the letter L. I rejected something that came to me, and I looked at my aunt and saw her gorgeous thick long black hair: thin and falling out suddenly. I think I rejected that too. I went into a deep denial mode. Then this Indian Trinidadian man came and I asked him, “who are you?” And he said, “security.” I immediately thought about the he you keep saying is for me.

I supernaturally saw through the white walls, there were dangerous giant men outside, but I am a thugget and I wasn’t scared. But you had no time for my tough girl act Daddy. At this point my aunt didn’t feel like she was the same, but I still saw her. There was definitely a difference. I can’t put my finger on it. The floor was a blue rug like the deep blue sea. I asked the Trinidadian security guard, “what’s outside?” And he said, “not your concern, you must go. There’s no time to waste.” And he ushered me, and my aunt out then we left. I woke up.

I prayed, and you told me to trust you Daddy and that I will see. I called Jojo and she said that this he that you keep saying is for me Daddy is protected. And that we have to keep praying for my aunt. Jojo said that whatever is about to happen that I’m protected, and so is my aunt but we have to pray for her. Beautiful eyeballs that read these words, I need you to pray for my aunt too. I don’t know if I can handle any more loss, but God is God. If I thrived the last three years, losing my grandmother on my birthday, my favorite uncle, and my cousin who taught me godly grace in same year then I think I can handle anything. But please pray, there’s a lot going on and only prayer, my bible, and my sisters are keeping me.

Daddy you’ve transformed me emotionally, spiritually, and physically to a space I no longer feel stronger as a silent disgrace. I stand tall in this current pitfall, because you have my all God. It’s hard knowing you have my brother on this journey alone out west, and none of us can hear from him. It’s very hard. I’ve never been indefinitely separated from my brother before. But you love my brother far more than I ever will Daddy. Daddy you love all of us better than we would ever love ourselves or any human can ever love us. I choose to trust you with my brother, with my job, with my finances, with my ribcage, with my family, and with my Jojo. I bow before the Lord of Lords and trust without borders.

I love you so much Daddy,

Love your daughter.

Thank you for setting me free.

*Names changed for privacy reasons. #TeamProPrivacy

J

J doesn’t know 

how to choose healthy 

All she sees is the space 

to race for wealthy 

What does healthy look like?

All J sees is vitals that spike

J hikes to fight 

for the limelight

J won’t grow or 

go in this toxic show

There’s a thirty second delay

in the decay of yesterday 

with the kool-aid kids 

that are walking a broken

token talking in an ugly

backwards hat spat

by the mystified lie

misfit legalized-lusting

dusting and combusting in

radiation hesitation dedication 

as a wildfire rusting

in 131 worldly winds

as wrong she’s kinetic tailspins

shows the sinning in no winning 

J doesn’t know 

how to choose healthy 

All she sees is the space 

to race for wealthy 

What does healthy look like?

All J sees is vitals that spike

J hikes to fight 

for the limelight

J won’t grow or 

go in this toxic show

J picks up the chaotic hiccups

in the any day now shake ups

no one will make up

many will break up

two strand marriages 

will always be 

wrong hue quicksand savages

J sees the fast track 

of wrong she  

wedding rings sting attacks

with this he who will always see

being mr. & mrs. empty 

is a legalized-lust lie

& not meant to be 

His Fly

wrong she’s not 

the fiscal jackpot

or this he’s physical hot, 

just the mrs. pending boycott  

because this he mentally flew

this he sees God isn’t in 

this 131 matrimonial sin

131 matrimonial sin 

will never 

be better

together 

or winning 

J sees this he needed 

to walk the talk 

of his ugly

money was 

this he’s drugged honey

this he’s west was a detest 

of bloody, clumsy, and rusty

this he came 

to gain fiscal fame

in vain with growing pain 

hiding the lies 

deep inside 

of shame, 

lame,

same day, 

different way,

pitfalls of delays,

and benchmark dismays 

this he meets

the east in a she

that this he didn’t foresee 

a she that God says is me

was never apart of the plan 

this he believes in 

tangible sins 

is the key to fiscal wins

only God,

not this he’s 

current facades in flesh, 

with no confess 

just 131 distress in 

this wrong she mess

Only God is this he’s linchpin

J doesn’t know 

how to choose healthy 

All she sees is the space 

to race for wealthy 

What does healthy look like?

All J sees is vitals that spike

J hikes to fight 

for the limelight

J won’t grow or 

go in this toxic show

Neither will this he,

who God says is for me

as a she who no longer 

is stronger in flee 

Now decides 

to eject the reject lies

to be revived from 

consistent persistent dies

hidden behind the lines 

of smiles and lifestyles 

east is she and me: the yin

west is this he: the yang 

131 is designed to align 

this west and east 

in this season reasoned 

God- Ordained Boomerang

will always lead this he

to be His Stir in

he + He + her

three strands

will always be

His Kingdom Band

J sees unhealthy

this he is wealthy 

both choke 

in an evoke of 

worldly provoke stealthy 

coldly not boldly 

extremely lonely 

their confetti 

never replaced the space 

or disgrace of empty 

only God can clear 

the decay to make the way

of the gift in the switch 

in today from yesterday 

so they both need to let go

of the hallow swallow 

in sorrow of no tomorrow 

by the wrong seed 

weed toxic show

of saying no 

to finally glow and grow 

In God’s Kowtow

Respect & Let Go(d.)

God will always be 

Bigger in this

sinning no winning 

multiple gunshot trigger(s)

choose to lose the ruse

of fearful refuse 

and defuse the muse 

by grabbing His Gills

in Being Still 

to break the stake 

in fake to take 

His Key

and be set free, finally 

Legalized-lust

Dear Daddy,

I’m not happy. 

I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want this residency. 

I don’t want this testimony.

I don’t want this messy ugly. 

I don’t want to struggle. 

I don’t want to write. 

I don’t want to be positive.

I want wrong she to flee. 

I don’t want this routine anymore. 

It’s a lie and not what I truly desire deep inside. 

I don’t want to teach in this cesspool school.

I don’t want to reach these scholars

who are seen as leveraged dollars. 

I don’t want to be this image 

you’ve made me to be.

I never asked you for this role 

or to see what I see.

I just wanted you, 

and you showed me that dude.

Who’s apparently rude; 

and the he you keep 

saying is for me 

was never rude to me.

This he is in a hot mess without me.

That makes me feel 

fake in a stake of free,

because I feel guilty 

for not helping him flee.

Because you blocked me God.

Now he’s dim, trim, slim, and grim.

Dripping in sinning will never be winning.

Now sinking in drinking drunkenness. 

Your silence is driving me crazy. 

I’m starting to want to be lazy.

Because this is all nonsense. 

And you’re not moving fast enough.

All I want to do is quit and flee.

This buffoonery cannot be for me.

This isn’t the story,

I wanted to be Your Glory

That building no longer has godly wings.

That building has lots of 

wrong wedding rings that sting,

besides the lie that cannot hide behind 131. 

There’s an uneasiness in social media.

That hides more lies and cries

the world coldly not boldly feels inside. 

Humans want to be aloof 

by avoiding Your Proof.

I just wanted you God.

I didn’t want to walk 

through three years 

of selfish humans playing god. 

I didn’t want to talk 

with false prophets 

who’ve made it hobbit 

in a night no unity community.  

Where a think is a sink 

to crowds that stay loud,

and drown as drone clones; 

that will always make 

those that seek meek &

godly unity feel alone.

I did, 

Jojo* did, 

C* did, 

that’s why we all got permission to flee,

and it’s a joke that humans miss us three.

Humans never appreciate what is present 

until the gift makes a switch to a past.

The isolating cycle didn’t change. 

Just the human pulling 

the strings playing the same 

lame no shame 

going no where fast rearrange,

in that night no unity community.

I cannot feel. 

What I see 

is a reel.

I cannot believe. 

I cannot achieve.

Only disbelief and grief

there’s no release, 

in the sin of 

this legalized lying displease.

I cannot receive: 

this he’s war of supernaturally 

verses this he’s current worldly tangibility. 

131 credibility was chosen 

as the token, that’s truly lonely broken.

There’s a stagnancy 

in the kiss of death,

which this he ignored, 

rejected, and neglected.

This he’s actions lead to 

a weed that bleeds unsatisfactory 

cheap thrills, that sadly 

snuffed out His Gills.

Lustful flesh was the pale scale

that prevailed to make this he

not see this wrong she truly.

131 is a stench of premarital sex.

131 is manipulations with stipulations.

131 is a sinful operation 

of no love wedding rings that sting.

The stench of premarital sex 

will always be a legalized lie, 

of the sinking drinking hypnotize.

Drugs was the wrong she’s plug in

to dive head first in lies 

in the sixth month

of the year two thousand fifteen.

Two strands will never 

be better or together 

as His See of His Three.

Kingdom Band Supernaturally

will always be God’s Destiny:

he + He + her

is the path to godly math.

131 will always be 

lust that will always combust,

no matter the factor 

of obtaining mr. & mrs. contractor.

Fiscal connections

was the see for this he’s directions.

Legalized-lust 

doesn’t take the stake 

in fake away or the decay 

of yesterday; 

the hue of two

will never be His True.

131 is legalized-lust lying in dying.

131 is legalized-lust and just 

the combust of distrust,

and to cover the apparatus

in this manipulated matrimonial stratus

by that no unity community.

By the humans in that building 

with no godly wings. 

Lies never hide 

what’s truly inside. 

Confetti will never

replace the space 

of disgrace or empty. 

131 was a dip in the ship 

of fun with no godly sun.

The performance treadmill

is how these two

became mr. & mrs. standstill.

There’s no godly prosperity 

in lustful legality.

Marriage is a ministry 

not a means to cover 

ungodly history. 

131’s reputations will always have

payroll declarations 

as this loophole congregation.

131 is a merger and acquisition talk 

that’s really a rabbit whole vortex walk.

131 is a case worker 

starring as a lurker, 

and an opportunist

who became lame, 

filled with shamed 

as mrs. case-dismissed. 

I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want this residency. 

I don’t want this testimony.

I don’t want this messy ugly. 

I don’t want to struggle. 

I don’t want to write. 

I don’t want to be positive.

I want wrong she to flee. 

I don’t want this routine anymore. 

It’s a lie and not what I truly desire deep inside. 

I don’t want to teach in this cesspool school.

I don’t want to reach these scholars

who are seen as leveraged dollars. 

I don’t want to be this image 

you’ve made me to be

I never asked you for this role 

or to see what I see.

I just wanted you, 

and you showed me that dude.

God I’m tired.

This season needs to end.

I stopped the clock of pretend.

When will this all come together 

and not be discombobulated 

sin that will never win 

with this wrong she inoculation? 

I don’t know what do.

I don’t know how to move.

I don’t want to be where you placed me.

I am east with an inner beast 

yearning with learning 

for the west to finally be blessed.

I’m over New York.

It needs to be time to pick up and go.

I’m over this chaotic show. 

So God clear the path

for my math to move.

As hard as this all is,

I submit until Your Permit.

Only your way, 

in today I will stay okay 

and wait for Your Obey. 

I still choose to lose

the ruse and refuse

the world boldly

not coldly. 

I profess and confess

I neglect and reject 

the choice of man’s voice.

I choose supernaturally. 

I loose tangibility. 

I’ll always be a fighter 

because your ways are lighter. 

Keep leading and I’ll keep believing God.

Love your daughter.