We live in borrowed time,
says Lent.
i have lived on borrowed truth for a while
as well,
and borrowed faith when necessary
i know I have taken certainty from places that shouldn’t have given it to me
and probably wouldn’t have, willingly.
I have tried to make it my own.
all of it.
i have given it the names of my gods,
and scratched in deep to its essence my name and my claim
that it’s mine
and it’s me.
i have held it fast with fear and determination,
and close as to make it mine forever
but here now
you ask for it back
and i give it.
the left over shape of a life
and a faith
tarnished, scratched and battered
with the indentations of my clasping
grasping
fingers
and i say
sorry for messing what was beautiful
and
thankyou for trusting me with what’s yours.