CONSTRUCTION WORK

Some days I fold my laundry with the kind of courage it takes to skydive

I play construction worker with the anxiety I lift from my shoulders

Some days I speak more fluent in approval than in acceptance

And I let Gods voice sound a lot like my own insecurities

But some days my feet hit the floor and the first thing they do is send a thank you letter to my spine

For holding me up

Some days nostalgia arrives wrapped as a beautiful gift, softening the memory of things that were once ugly

Renaming hardship growth

Some days I feel 300 feet tall, hovering above who I used to be

On those days, I want to hug everyone

To apologize for the way it hurts

But tell them how good it will feel to breathe