Cold.

Silence that speaks into the insecurities laid deep.

Told.

Stories that grow old.

Time.

You disappear from view thinking I would not notice.

But your void stirs tears of the soul for all of the things that you choose not to allow me to know.

Bold.

My flame inside that cannot accept a passive goodbye.

Sold.

For a lie of less when Heaven is screaming for you to take hold of God’s best!

Look upon my face once more.

See into my eyes.

Read of my lips.

I am more than only the words you have reduced me to.

Hear my voice again.

There is always hope to newly begin.

Gold.

Refined through the heat until we meet after the scars.