2d • General discussion
The Mirror
You swore you wouldn’t.
You said you’d break the Sunday smile,
the holy fake—
the man who preached
then left a kid to sit and wait.
Now look again.
Same hymn, same hush, same public grace.
As you stand in this instant,
do you wear that painted face—
or wreck the place?
Daddy worked the pulpit.
Mama looked brand new.
What the church got handed was a polished view. What the house got handed didn’t make the news.
Careful what you copy
when they teach you “good.”
The thing that blessed you
also drew the blood.
You’re thinking that you left that pew
as you’re raising your voice, too.
This isn’t faith.
This isn’t true
Now look again.
Now some of us walk out.
Wake from the name
or learn to doubt.
The aisle is worn.
The lie is born
in clothes that look like love,
then worse—
a perfect little church-trained curse
until the child becomes the show.
You learned to shine for borrowed eyes.
You learned the smile that swallows cries.
You learned that anger wears a dress
and leaves a map of red on flesh.
How will your kid tell God apart
— from you—
when you still flinch at “bless your heart”?
1
4 comments
The Mirror
skool.com/consistently-inconsistent-8629
We show up when we feel like it. We always feel like it!
Leaderboard (30-day)
1
🔥
+2
Powered by