It happened again tonight. I lost it. 

I polished off a box of mac&cheese, and started bawling as soon as I realized what I had done. Because I want to feel something other than the peices of my broken heart stabbing my chest wall, as they try to break out of my body. 

It was a night where crawling into the passenger seat is smarter than driving less than a block home. 

Where exhaustion crosses an intersection with not wanting to be along, and they decide to leave you stranded in the parking lot of a Baptist church. Where you stare at a sign that says “There is hope. There is God.” but all you want to do is drink your mothers box wine and smoke a cigarette. A night there you come home expecting to cuddle you cat, but instead are greeted with two new wounds. 

God, you do not abandon. I know that the devil wants me to believe that no one love me, but you sent someone to say, “Macy, I love you.”  God you sent someone to say, “Goodnight beautiful, just thanking God for you tonight and the amazing things you are doing for his kingdom. 👌” and I am reminded that you love me when I can’t love myself. 

God I want to dance with you. I want the pain to subside. I want my mind to be healed. I want children to know your love. I want all of your children to know your love does not fail.     

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About macycrone

I'm just going to be real, sorry to offend.
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