I forgot how to pray. Every time I hold my hands together they shake. I think they’re afraid of strangling each other- but neither of them have the guts to start a fight. The worst kind of promise is a broken one. If I scream at the sky and promise to be better, then the whole thing begins with a lie. But I promise I’m still trying.

Kneel like a sinner. Kneel like a saint. Kneel like I’m spilling my guts out in a porcelain bowl- I guess I’ll never learn. Maybe that’s the whole point- to stay as you are and trust that it’s good enough. And one day I hope to grow wings from scarred skin. Walk away from what this earth couldn’t give me and never look back. But first, I need to remember how to raise shaking palms to the sky and trust in a better chapter. Rewrite it until it’s worth reading. Say it like a prayer. -AMT