booze and boyfriends
blazing deep into the night
tearing her hair out contemplating what's right
making supplications to a Holy Father
whom she is unsure exists
abiding by rules or bathing in grace
its always a struggle to turn a new page
she regrets and she cries
as she buries her face
deep into animal print cottons
and sobs in a quiet way
hiding her blackened eyes.
and she tries again
to talk herself out of him
and to believe in the night
despite the broken, past the wound
she holds tightly to all that she has
clinging and begging for different plans
somewhere within her there is a mustard seed
its small, but there
speaking hope and light
don’t give up, I tell her
as she has told me before
but she turns and looks at me
with dark and empty eyes.
And I know it will take many more tries.
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