Held by Stephanie Buttner

Prose and Poetry

Nov 3

Written By

Your words

Not theirs

Are strong enough for the dirt

And the blood

The rough and the bad.

So when you speak of my tears

Seen and collected

Numbered and known

A different ache swells

And an empty, nameless place

Which I can’t fill

Is sweetly contained and

held by You.

Pursuing Christ at all Cost by Erika Bailey