Free

she threw his clothes out the window

criss cross applesauce, I watched them fall on the lawn,

my idea of love distorted,

like the dust behind dad’s truck as he drove away.

love had to be proved—

and I always pled guilty.

–

play dates mocked me with love I didn’t understand,

those husbands and wives and their kids,

–their warmth, their touch, their weightless expressions–

I hated it. I wanted it.

I hid in their closet, tears soaking my cheeks, confused and envious of their free love.

–

I wanted free love so badly, no price was too high.

I looked for it everywhere,

But every person just charged more,

I got sick of the search, tired.

–

Self love was the hardest to prove,

The ego is incapable of loving anything,

forgiving anyone,

especially itself.

I submitted to its rhetoric,

stopped trying to convince myself

life was more than fleeting enjoyment.

–

it was when I stopped trying,

that I realized God had found me.

he found me, 9 years old, sobbing in that closet,

at the altar pretending to speak in tongues to prove I was saved from hell,

he was calling me before my eyes witnessed love broken. 

god knew me, cherished me, offered free love no strings attached.

he spoke through a stranger “are you a christian?”

could it be that easy to accept?

yes.