Day 50 – Marker Stone (poem/prayer)
Fifty days.Not fifty perfect days.More like fifty rounds in the dirt.I lay this marker here,to say I made it this far.Now, God—help me make it farther.
Fifty days.Not fifty perfect days.More like fifty rounds in the dirt.I lay this marker here,to say I made it this far.Now, God—help me make it farther.
My program’s not shining right now—it’s ashes.But ashes mean there was fire once.And fire can come back.Today I strike a match.
I hand You my chaos,You hand me a breath.I give You my shame,You give me a little hope.We keep trading like this,and somehow I’m still in the fight.
The addict voice is loud as hell right now.Keeps promising comfort, but I know the price tag.It’s been screaming for days.I’m still not buying.
God,I don’t have some big fancy prayer tonight.I’ve got scraps.I’ve got a little honesty and a lot of “please.”So here it is—I’m down here, and I need You.
This road eats at me.Chews my feet to blisters.But the road I left behind would’ve buried me.So I keep walking,even if I limp the whole way.
Half measures are a back door for the addict to sneak in and wreck the place.I’ve been leaving it unlocked all week.Today I’m bolting it shut.Not playing that game.
Take the polish,take the pretend,take the fake “I’m fine.”Leave me raw,leave me scraped down to bone.What’s left?Just enough to fight another day.
God,My head’s a damn carnival right now.Loud, messy, flashing lights I never asked for.Say one word, louder than all of it.Just one.Make it Stay.
Been sliding more than walking lately.Every step feels like thin ice, and I can hear it crack.One bad move and I’m under.But I ain’t gone yet.Still moving. Still here.