When I was little, I liked to pretend.
Pretend I was a princess, or a ballerina, or a fairy.
Pretend I was a superhero or a Jedi knight.
Now that I’m older, I still pretend.
I put on the façade that I’m o.k.,
I pretend I’m in charge, I can handle it, I can keep going, it doesn’t matter.
I wear a mask to hide that I’m hurt and angry.
I’m not anything.
Really, I’m fine.
Thing is, it’s time to stop pretending.
I’m so desperate for grace.
I need to be heard, listened to, understood.
I’m broken, I’m not fine.
That’s what you’re here for, God.
Can you please scoop me up and put me back together?
Can you make it o.k. to not be o.k.?