Imperfection
"Used to"
A familiar phrase
Like before there was something
Where bystanders had reveled
Commented in awe
Of the talent
The freshness
The she-could-be and then more
And now?
Nothing
"Used to"
Like before words were uttered in boldness
It was second nature
She knew it
Effortlessly she worked her way through it
But the glimmer in her eye
What others saw and coveted
Became a "used to"
Reduced to hushed whispers:
Who is she?
Do you know her?
A little bit awkward to me
As if they had never known
She had once worn many crowns
And now she looks at her hands
Bleeding
Buckled and bruised from the bricks
That she is frantically trying to put back together
As they fall
Perhaps the cement not mixed right
Old and fresh tears on her soft brown face
Trying to erase
"Used to"
In silent cries
Under warm blankets on her cold cheeks
Quivering lips
Desperately asking for Him to complete
What has seemed so incomplete
Faulty
Useless
Please build my world God
No, please build Your world
And show me where I fit in
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