*This piece explores themes of spiritual trauma, domestic abuse, and the quiet journey toward healing. Reader discretion advised for sensitive content.

God of the overlooked—

I’m not here for blessings.

I’m here to breathe.

You watched me kneel

in a house that called itself holy

while it broke me—

one silent bruise at a time.

I thought you’d turned your face.

But maybe

you were on the floor beside me,

waiting for me

to leave.

This isn’t a psalm of praise.

It’s recognition.

Of survival.

Of starting over.

I don’t quote scripture anymore.

I’ve lived enough of it

to know deliverance

doesn’t always come with light.

Sometimes it comes

with paperwork.

With courtrooms.

With silence.

Sometimes,

it’s just walking away

and not going back.

But if you’re still listening—

I still believe.

Not in noise.

Not in institutions.

But in you.

Quiet.

Still.

Present.

Like breath.

Like mercy.

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Psalm of the Betrayed