I Left Salvation Back in Dallas Where I Came From

In Dallas, I walked with a wounded heart,

A mosaic of cracks, jagged and dark.

Each step heavy with what I carried—

The shadow of promises, broken and buried.

The streets hummed a tune of silent prayers,

Under neon lights that whispered despair.

I found no peace in the preacher’s voice,

For salvation isn’t given—it’s a choice.

But I was young, lost, and tethered to shame,

Chasing a grace I could never reclaim.

The church bells rang; I closed my ears,

Haunted by echoes of my deepest fears.

I went to Seattle with a suitcase of grief,

Trading gospel hymns for hollow relief.

The road stretched long, but my soul stayed behind,

In the dust of a city that knew my mind.

In Alaska’s cold, the ravens croak,

Over snow-covered paths where faith is choked.

No blue jays sing, no hymns are sung,

Just the hum of the wind where silence clung.

Yet here I stand, shaped by the strife,

Fasting and praying for a resurrected life.

Seeking the strength to be wife, mother, and more,

To mend what I broke and heal what I tore.

For salvation isn’t a place, nor a man’s decree,

It’s the shadow I face in my own story.

Dallas may keep the girl I once was,

But the woman I am, she fights and she does.

Salvation isn’t back where I came from—

It’s here, in the ink, in the battles I’ve won.

In my child's laughter, my husband's embrace,

In my surrender to love’s quiet grace.

Dallas is gone, but I carry the flame,

A flicker of hope in a world of pain.

I left salvation, but salvation stayed,

In the woman I’ve become, unafraid.