strength in weakness

my hands are giving up,

attached to a body that’s shaking and weak.

an empty feeling weakens my knees and brings me to the ground.

i am hollow.

i am gone…

i would be gone if i had nowhere to fall,

but i’ve fallen on the softest rock my flesh and heart could know.

and it cradles me just tightly enough to stop the shaking,

to strengthen my frail frame

and stand me up again.

my body.

my body is not my own.

my body is built on the rock.