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The Battle, by Gabriela Amada

There is a battle in me.

A war raging between

what my mind has been

taught to be true,

and what my soul and body

are fighting to live naturally. 

Some days it feels like

sleep washes away

the shore of all of the

ground my mind

has won.


I feel like I'm awake

and my soul is looking for her.

Spanning the space

around me to find

she has never physically

occupied that space,

but somehow she has

always been there. 

I let her go. 

The connection severed

after perforating it over

weeks and months

of deliberate tracing.

I handled the severing well

telling myself that maybe

if our paths had crossed

long before we had

become so set

in the foundation of Christ

that it might have worked. 

Recently I heard a story that

turned this trophy of shiny acceptance

and layered it instantaneously

to a pile of rusty metal. 

Two gay Latter-Day Saint women

who loved the Lord

and loved one another.

Courageously and faithfully

they embraced both truths. 

This story found its way

to the carved out space

that she once lived in.

Like a sound wave it traveled

with nothing to absorb

the shock of its blow,

and the echo it created

was a shrill cry of a

woman mourning a deep loss. 

I wasn’t prepared for it,

but again I feel

the rebound of ground lost.

Again I learn that

my body dredging across

the rough terrain

needs to just sit in this space. 

I need to let the echoes

fade all the way out of me

before my journey continues,

and I need to be okay

that this is part of the process. 

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