They don’t put a face on me.
Just a name.
That feels,
Not my own.
In a place
That feels
Not my home.
“Bethany!”
I turn my head
Like a dog
Who knows her name.
Repetition,
Muscle memory,
Habits
Of the brain.
I know the me
Inside my soul
Not reflected
On my outer shell
I know the me
You’ll never know
What a mirror
Never
Tells.
Reblogged this on Creative Writing Reblogged.
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Our inner self is something only few get to know if we let them see. Great post! flightministries.com
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Even if we let them see they may not be capable. My inside is always visible it is just rare to find someone able to be willing to try and see it.
I love that when I pray, I know that I am seen and heard for who I truly am.
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That is a great point I️ feel the same way!
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Beautiful. I love it.
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Beautiful. So much more than everything they see and won’t see. ❤️
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Thank you, yes! So much more
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Omg what a fantastic piece 👏🏼👏🏼😘❤️
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Yay thank you!!!!!!
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You’re very welcome, girl! Mwah 😘💓💓💓
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