she needs Higher as Jesus’ Lighter.

she desires her King that makes her soul sing

to scribe the hidden lines of her heart.

the lies that made her die are coming apart.

she’s choosing to use all of God tool’s.

she leaped and spoke on what

used to cause painful chokes.

she cannot hide behind the pages,

and wages of a daughter’s decided life.

regardless of the strife and bites,

rereading scenes can’t make anyone clean.

only the supernatural hue of God’s truths

are the elevations in His Revelations.

she’s no longer stronger in repeated wronged.

vulnerability is scary, the tracks were abused

in the past that replays and lasts as her fuse.

she uses pain with no gain in vain

to never be labeled with fables of insane,

to never be laughed at or attacked,

to never see pretentious phony ugly,

and to never trust what can’t be trusted.

the songs of her life crippled her nights.

yesterday is today’s breakthrough.

she sees a son was a tool

to have her face what became forgotten lampshades.

vulnerability was hostility and mockeries,

where she made a mental switch to never speak.

it’s twenty-eighteen and she wants only godly scenes.

she’s in the space to cling to His grace.

she holds on to His compassion.

she breathes His mercy.

she writes what needs her fight,

and sparking what’s hidden in the dark.

she’s ready to face the grey that breaks.

the black and white has no light.

she’s ready to thrive and fight.

she’s committed to the oath in God’s Growth.

she realizes that she has to face

the reality of her family’s emotional state.

she realizes she’s happier without a routine

of unhealthy instability unapologetically.

she sees she’s made her pain forgotten lampshades.

she sees her King that makes her soul sing

uses a son to be undone, because Love won.

she took a long time to trust God’s alignment.

she sees she swallowed so much unhealthy.

she sees she preexisted in projected toxicities.

she sees laughter was replaced for sadder.

she sees ditzy was easy to use as her forgotten lampshades.

the black and white is her grey swayed stay.

her silence was a harmful haphazard decay.

she’s so fearful of being seen in vulnerability.

no one was ever healthy to protect her outside of God.

she’ll always climb the mountains to face her facades.

she wants nothing to do with, “I miss you.”

sometimes, she cringes at the words, “I love you.

she goes in performance mode with these coded words.

she now sees marriage as a careless savage.

she’s petrified to curse children with generational wickedness.

the turmoil of her soul made her distant enough to unfold.

but she doesn’t want to be running out anymore.

it’s hard to see her vulnerability,

because of what she grew up achieving.

it’s hard to see forgiveness or deliverance

in this testimony, because she won’t be naked in lonely.

her forgotten lampshades are arrows of sorrow

in a no tomorrow by her hallow swallows.

she has to keep fighting by walking through

seeing the hues of all her painful views.

she doesn’t want to be paralyzed by painful lying lullabies.

she rededicated to a God of grace to grace.

she’s not made for shame or lame—not in God’s Race.

her King discovered what she covered:

choking fears for years by apprentice gears.

despite her forgotten lampshades,

she wants more by conquering ignored scores:

more victory and delivery in this new year

from the pain in no gain all in vain.

no more ignoring hurtful sores from the past.

she claws her way to learn His Obey

in vulnerability faithfully, because she’s free.

she chooses to see God dismantle

the handles of misguided lies by pride.

she doesn’t know how this new year will go.

she chooses to be renewed, and walkthrough

her forgotten lampshades by being Jesus’ Renegade.

she said yes to being His testing testimony.

she proudly lifts the Cross to be freed from lost.

she can only go to glory to glory

by telling her story through the messy of her messages.

she’s ready for God’s Light to shine on her forgotten lampshades.

peek-a-boo, God sees you too.

love she that scribes lines of poetry.


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