Today was the first time you cried in front of me,
so innocently, so tragically that I wanted to hold you
as you hugged a pillow in search of companionship.
Tears do not make you weak, dear, or impure.
The rivers of evil had stolen your faith yet I
pulled you out from the heaviness of despair.
You are not what others have named you
or what you carve into yourself.
You are not the overdoses, the hopelessness,
the self-loathing that convinced you
there was nothing to fight for anymore.
A man will see you for your soul,
not for how many nights you've surrendered to.
You will be someone cherished - not something used.
Remember your dignity. Do not settle.
You are in the hands of your Maker.
And God says, "You are mine no matter what you've done.
You belong to me despite your scars, despite the many times
you've given your body away carelessly to strangers.
Despite your inability to see your own worth.
I crafted you. You are special.
I promise you there is a way through."
-
Written 12/07/15 @ 11:03 AM
This was probably one of the most important poems for me to write and means a lot to me. Was also inspired by Max Lucado's story "You are special".
