In the midst
of the loss
in my life,
the positivity
miracles and faith
seem human words.

I am
drifting Lost
just a vapour
just dust
layered times
patinas of pain,
My spirit
surrounded and boxed
cheap traps
flimsy cardboard
and sticky tape,
life archived
and placed on the
cold metal shelf
Another carton
of forgotten records
experiences
and notes on
a life
attempted.

I know
I see only
what I see
through the holes
and tears
in my box,
My dark perspective,
But as I touch
the sides
they feel concrete.

"Box on," they say.

Who is this Jesus?
I know I exist,
complex in a world
where evil occurs because
God is the only true good,
science points to the reality
the historical figure
Jesus
who says," I am
the one you
have been waiting for.
Who do you say I am?”

Who is this Jesus?

Can I see more through the tears
and holes in my box?

Poetry Topic Tag: #box, #christian, #experiences, #jesus, #life, #loss, #lost, #pain, #perspective, #poems, #poetry, #reality, #spokenword, #trapped,#videos, #who