Softer
I shall not forget
the peculiar betrayal, the grief—
crying so achingly hard
my very bones screamed.
I begged God to tell me why,
why these things were happening.
But the silence stretched,
long and unmoving,
until thoughts failed me.
And then I told God,
I refuse.
I refuse to be like so many others,
where pain sours into bitterness.
I just kept saying:
I won’t.
I won’t.
I won’t.
I won’t let misfortune
turn me hard and leathery.
I don’t know what it means, God,
but I pray—
let it make me softer.
And softer.
Much, much softer.
And softer it did.
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