My impurities 

are designed 

to align my space

to be cleansed 

from disgrace.

My impurities 

are a bondage

that keep me hostage.

My impurities 

trigger what’s bigger:

my insecurities. 

I don’t want to see.

Everything about me

rejects being an employee.

My personality is strong

and cannot conform to socetial norms.

Everything about me

neglected what God used 

to take my weeds of abuse,

that I sparked to stay dark.

God had to pull me 

out of my latest assignment:

a reacher through teacher,

& the hesitate to educate.

That assignment was killing me

from the inside out literally. 

I must now restore and heal.

God showed me two years ago,

before I said yes to this assignment,

that the ruse in abuse

would be used

for my biblical alignment.

Everything in me ejected 

the role of teacher 

because I know it’s deeper.

I know I’m truly a preacher.

Nothing lights me up 

like the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I’m sitting in beautiful Alabama

waiting for my layover plane.

God is making me

stare at the layer 

I thought prayer 

would take the fake 

instead of the dead lead

that I dread in the walkthrough

to my breakthrough &

to be healed by God’s Revealing. 

I wanted to keep concealing.

I love math 

it’s my path 

to master crafts.

If I can figure out the math, 

then I can master the 

reason for seasonal castes.

God is making me walk through pain

I never wanted to have a godly gain.

As Jojo* was walking me through 

my panic attack, I started counting 

the architecture’s math. 

Counting soothes 

me through my silence.

I cannot speak 

when I’m suffering 

panicked anxiety.

When I told her the math,

she told me the 

language to my path.

Math language flares me 

and makes me shut down.

Words can be diluted 

to proof what human’s refuted.

Ironically God made 

that my love language

I receive love.

satan attacks 

when we don’t want

to give what we took

from the world back. 

I don’t want to give 

back my brokenness.

I have a serious problem 

with God being my solution.

Patrolling in control 

is what I know

but there’s no growth.

Flying is something 

I cannot control.

Flying beats gravity.

God beats gravity.

As I scribe my rhymes,

I realize that I cannot

do God’s job

or rewind time. 

I truly don’t want to. 

It looks overwhelming 

and only something God can do.

Rewinding time is a hue not true.

So I choose to stay in my lane

and trust God on this plane.

A wise older brother in Alabama

recently told me: the trick to anxiety

is dwelling in God’s Sovereignty.

That’s what I choose to do.

I choose to trust God with:

My impurities. 

My insecurities.

My anxieties.

God I trust you

with all my …(ities)

I love you my King.

Thank you for making 

my stake in fake break,

to shake me 

and set me free biblically.

Love your daughter. 

*names changed for privacy purposes



2 thoughts on “(ities)

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