Not one that never breaks—

 

God, You know it—
that place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

The walls remember me wrong.
Even the silence there speaks in a language
I no longer understand.

I don’t want to go back.
Not to the corners that swallowed my light,
not to the rooms that forgot how to breathe with me in them.

Let me stay here,
where the air feels softer,
where even sadness has gentler edges,
where hope still knows my name.

Or take me somewhere else—
a rainbow land stitched from colors I’ve never outgrown,
where the sky doesn’t question my presence,
and the ground holds me like I belong.

But if You want me to return,
if that road is still mine to walk,
then I ask You this, quietly, fully:

God, give me a strong heart.
Not one that never breaks—
but one that knows how to keep beating
even when everything else feels like leaving.