A prayer

Lord, I give you the interpretations I have created to manage pain.

Every villain I have reduced is known in complexity by you. You alone are fair.

I have sub-created a grand story so that I might survive the constant ache in my chest.

I have flattened and compressed the past out of self defense.

I have set up a framework that has justified my yank at the reins.

I have allowed my loneliness to accuse.

But you see with utter clarity.

The past I’ve commandeered is yours.

Show me what to believe.