I am a Writer

I have very recently started calling myself a writer.
Why?
As a kid I always liked to write.  I use to make up short, happy kid stories and memorize my favorite books so I could recite them anytime I wanted.  As I grew older, I became obsessed with the word "diary" and would write page after page about nonsensical activities.  I remember in 5th grade we had a weekly journaling assignment, and I actually filled my journal before the end of the school year.  In High School I took Honors' English, and then AP English, and I must say that my favorite GEC (General Education Curriculum) classes in college were the English classes.

Writing and reading had become a way of life for me.  Somewhere in this cancer battle I'm in I became depressed and could not even pick up a book to read for months.  Also, the only writing I did was note taking for church and small groups - nothing creative or lighthearted.  I use to process big emotional events by writing poems, but I couldn't even remember the last time I wrote a poem.

Until a couple days ago in the shower.  All of a sudden, God blessed me with the style and some of the lines of this masterpiece (as I am calling it).  I started writing and it was as if the poem wrote itself.  I feel that God has broken my chains and set me free through giving me this poem.
This is HIS doing, not mine.

*Deep Breath*   Well, here it is.  Please Please Please comment and let me know what you think!

Desirable Death

By Stephanie Schiffbauer-Rudash

I close my eyes and then I see

She had to die. She could not be.

Her life was short, her presence long

Listen as she sings her song

She goes to play and thinks that he

Will love all that she wants to be

The music fades - does not remain

He throws her in a pit of shame

New music starts - no, not that part!

It brings her fear, and cuts her heart

She hears it change, and hopes to be

But no, it only changes keys

A man appears and then she sees

His scars of love.  She’s on her knees

He sings a song of love so strong

It lifts her up where she belongs

She looks back down from up so high

Sees that her old self has died

Torn between the melodies

Of who she was, or now can be

The memory fades, it cannot be

But Jesus Christ stands next to me

His arms embrace. His lips will say

“Follow me. I know the way.”

His melody is full of heart

Sometimes it fades - no, not that part!

I cannot hear the sweet refrain

All I feel is shame, shame, shame

I cry and cry - sometimes for years

But then he takes away my fears

I know as long as I believe

He will indeed take care of me

*Note: I am planning on publicly sharing and writing prompts/poems/stories I complete in Google Drive. Feel free to stop by if you are interested in my stuff. the link to my DRIVE is HERE

I am praying for God to lead me in the direction He wants me to go - whether that's towards more writing or not.