Let the Past Die

    So, the piece I just finished writing that I split into four separate parts was inspired by a couple different people. One person had me close my eyes and imagine being imprisoned in a dark chamber and then instructed me to try to find a way out. The second person told me to look for my practically feral inner child somewhere deep in a cluttered basement. I modified that bit and made the primary obstacle darkness. My goal is to find a way to get the inner child to trust me again since I had denied her everything for so long. On top of that, she points out that she can't trust me because I don't believe what I say. I've tried to sugar-coat things, tried to claim that the past does not matter, to I wave it off as insignificant. But that is why I wrote a while back that "the past taught me x, but now I know y." I know I have to acknowledge the significance of the past in the way it sculpted me and my personality; it would be foolish to claim otherwise. I can't tell you how eager I am to drop this load and walk away from it already.

Let the Past Die

My past force-fed me lies.
It had me believing myself to be weak.
It had me believing that I was unlovable.
It had me believing I was undeserving of good.
My past force-fed me lies.
Please, dear God, let the past die.

I see the truth, I know the truth,
but I still don't believe the truth.
I have lived off the torment of lies
and now I wish to be nourished by what's true.
And what's true is that I can't be weak
and capable of walking through the wilderness for 6 months.
What's true is that I can't be unlovable
and experience the loving support of my community.
What's true is that I can't be undeserving of good
and a child of God born in and with the Love and Grace of God.

I say and write the words but don't believe what I say.
The proof is laid before me,
but I struggle to let go of the force-fed lies.
Please, dear God, let the past die.