My Attempt

A letter of sorts

this will turn out to be.

Yet in gracious prose

I pray you receive it.

I'm treading deep water here

and I know it

But I keep grabbing at 

my life jacket of truth

to ensure I don't lash in anger

or disrespect.

Truly, I apologize, if harming occurs.

Difficult it is

to pry words from my mind and soul

that will rebuke in love

and respect

But what an oxymoron I have.

Rebuking a parent in respect

tis not a place of a child

is it?

Yet I'm consumed

with this evening

and how it turned so quickly

like burnt chili.

I am but a child

as I mentioned before

Straddled between two worlds

of maturity in adulthood

and frivolous times of childhood

I'm trying to figure this out

Trying to be responsible in what I know

like lowering heat and stirring the beans

and learning anything I don't

like how to undo my walls

and leave the children alone.

But I'm struggling.

And yet, as a mother figure

Do I feel encouragement,

love, and guidance?

No. I don't.

I feel a harsh rebuke

and guilt in You should have 

known betters.

Again.

Inching closer to that breaking point.

I truly love you.

And your advice even

when harsh reality.

But have you forgotten

I'm a child?

Have you forgotten

that even while I've much

to learn, I am not oblivious?

Have you forgotten the season

of mistakes we travel?

I beg that you turn the target 

to yourself, if only

for a moment.

Reflect. Digest. Contemplate.

How does the Lord view you?

Not me.