Paint it black
2023-04-26, 12:34 a.m.

the supernal joy of sun and childhood sunlight, when there still unknowns and still possibilities, when hope is audacious, when the world is still being painted with words. there is still beauty when you are older, in the random quiet cold, but like eating the apple, it gets tainted. you start to see as you are, not what it could be. and in this way the world starts to get painted, black by heartbreak.

God has always known when i've had just enough soul weariness. and he pulls back the curtain to show a small peek. then i realize he's been there the whole time. if i co-wrote this, i'd like an easier time. no more spots i have to squeeze myself until i stop breathing. no more hurting my natural life until i lose my identity. not ever sacrificing my natural joy for the ego of the powerful ones who think i would only deserve mercy if i am pitiful. I want to be a Jungian, uncovering the gold particles in the verses. but i'm afraid i've been burned into oblivion. even as omnipotent as God really is. My soul is weary. even as a reborn soul, sometimes evil of human beings is so crushing, it knocks the air out of the lungs, and the energy out of the heart. in this way, evil can extinguish. then only god can bring recompense. they only have power for a season. until he moves more swiftly than the serpent, and with enough force that he will be known to all who encounter the scene.