S.O.S.

How can I begin
Dissecting this complex mass
Of blood and bone and nerves
I am human
My identity is formed
And forming
My refusals shape my abilities
My resistances mold my persistence
Is the past breaking the hull,
Or am I disguising the hole
That’s always been seeping?
Did Ruth betray her family,
Or forsake the godless,
And what’s in a name?
If the golden cow is lifeless,
Can the dances be for Yahweh?
I feel the sin in me
Interrupting the gift,
But is it sin to indulge,
Or sin to flee?
And what if the real sin
Is me avoiding me?
I regret every finger I’ve ever wagged,
But the one pointed at myself.
I feel sincere remorse
For allowing tender hearts
To invest their tenderness in me.
I was bred to disappoint
Anyone foolish enough to care.
I’ve paddled against that tide so long
But my arms are tired-
I can no longer hold them high.
Why did I come home to homelessness?
Was it to be well-behaved,
Or prove I’m from the lawless seed?
There are parts of me
That are fundamentally broken.
I don’t yell at my kids.
I respect my husband,
And I fail.
It does no good to comfort,
To say the abuse was not my fault-
What could it matter now
Whose serve it was,
When the ball falls limp in my court.
I want to speak plainly.
I must speak plainly.
I devolve
And I cannot cry for help,
And no one reads these letters
I throw into the abyss
Like coins in a fountain.
I know
I’ve always known,
If He isn’t real, and strong,
Capable of palpable forgiveness,
And for me-
In His gut, for me-
Then I’m falling backwards
Forever
Into the blackest darkness.
I need to weep,
To pound the earth,
And stand up again,
And walk again,
But can I?
Who will scoop me up this time?
Did they entice me,
Guilt me, pull me off course,
Or did I derail the passenger train
For a cigarette?
Did I go all in
For a quiet smoke break?
How do I again focus
On what’s good, and true, and noble,
Even lovely?
Everyone is dying.
Is it my sin,
Or my stubborn empathy
Clinging to my skin
Like smoke from the foregone blaze,
That urges me
To die with them?
I must stand again,
Everyone waits impatiently,
For me to find my legs in the ashes-
But the ashes are my legs.

About viewingcamelot

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