People can say whatever they want.
i know what i feel, believe, and what i think.
they have no idea
the ball of pain
and anger
and the walls.
.
they tried to march around me and blow their little toy whistles and proclaim that my walls must fall.
ive been screamed at
and yelled at
hit and thrown
and frankly,
that’s why the walls are there.
.
But Jesus?
He sits in the road with me
and he just listens.
As i, weary from life
playing with dirt on the pavement
tell him, tell him most of what’s on my mind.
.
i have cried till my insides bled,
and the answers evaded me like a bug in a bowl of soup evades the spoon
and i am out of tears…
i do care
i care too much.
i care about more than you ever will.
it is how i was made
it is not a boast.
.
i wish that i could throw off this mantle
that makes my heart bleed in the middle of the night so that im woken without any consideration and beckoned to the electric chair…
.
and yes.
i dont care enough about what everyone else does –
But should i?
.
I am faint
my hopes are faint
my desire is faint
everything inside me faints.
.
anguish
.
time spins out like a spiders web,
almost invisible to the naked eye.
.
agony
.
im asking you
Come to me with a white flag for i cannot face your derision.
i cannot face your dissapointment
i cannot take another angry word about who i am and what i have done
– about what i cannot stop doing –
Coping.
.
coping is surviving in its most guttural form.
.
Survival
.
Unfailing survival.
the breath of God once breathed wreaks an eternal destruction
or resurrection…
i cannot remember from my grave like state
– weeping
.
weeping till i know no more
for from dust i came and to dust i will return –
.
Worn out
.
discarded
.
dont discard my cry
for you are merciful
and kind –
you are long suffering
and long
long i have suffered
and my silence was only external
what a wreck i am in here
.
worn out
.
the flood engulfs me from within
.
my eyes grow weak and
fail looking for you.
Yet your promise never fails.
There!
On the baren heights!
finally the Son rises!
My prayer rises like early morning mist
from the place where i am stretched out –
and as the sunbeams stream out into the darkness the lions twitch and move away from where i lie,
They slink away into the shadows as the Son rises and walks steadily towards me from the grave.
