I feel like I’m flatlining.
My crushed heart is dead.
I don’t love people;
Maybe I never did.

What is there to hope for?
Everything is violated by sin,
And it’s hard to believe
Anything could ever feel good again.

My faith has become
Bitter waters:
The neglected tears
Of the rejected daughter.

But I drop these deaths,
Like a dead sparrow, at Your door.
I ever know, beyond all I see,
You are infinitely more.

Unless the walls get torn down,
No sunlight falls inside the tomb,
But the reality of sunlight
Is greater and truer

Than the enclosed gloom.

Here, in the darkness,
Echo songs of the Light
From fellow travelers
Marveling at the sight

But I stay blind.

They sing of Your healing,
Of deliverance from captivity,
But I wake in groans, and
When I remember being free

It draws weeping.

Under the weight of these chains
I cannot dance for You,
But in the face of my devastation
Your promise stands true;

Your character is impeccable
Your hands are innocent and able
Your gift of kindness is ample
Your long arms are powerful
Your word is true reality

Your kingdom come
Your will be done

In me, in all, on earth
As it already is in heaven,
And through all space and time.

If there’s one thing the company taught me clear,
It’s that I am completely alone here
On this crowded earth, and maybe it’s time
To elbow my way to the front of the line

Before the food runs out.

Everyone is cruel and crude.
There are mouths that need food
And no compassion in man
For women or children in demand.

This bitterness will help me provide,
If I can just internalize it.

I want to be mad at him
For saying it to me
Because being good or bad
Belongs to those with agency
Who can stand on their own feet
And step here or there
On purpose, with intent,
But I am impaired.
I want to be mad
Because this wasn’t my choice,
But I heard warmth and concern
Saturating his voice

And it was the only genuine kindness
I’ve heard in ages.

God,

It doesn’t really matter what I write here
Because no one reads me.
It doesn’t matter what I say
When no one is listening.
Can it matter what I do
When no one sees?
Or who I am
When no one loves me?

I love cold souls, don’t I?
People who refuse
To put their house in order
Regardless of who they abuse.
They did such damage to my soul,
To my choices,
And they still grow and flourish.
People hear their voices
Even when they slandered me.
No one defended.
How can I assume there is value in me
If no one has ever contended
For my good.

I want to pray imprecations
With closed fists;
I have endeavored to live open-handed,
But their toxicity has twisted me
And I want to wish they would reap what they sow,
But I know Your ways are higher.

By my calculations, this can’t be put right.

I had one chance
To still get to be me,
And they burned it to the ground,
Without tenderness or regret.

May Your math be higher than mine,
God of all heaven and earth.

He is maintaining
With admirable consistency,
Shrouding himself
In mundane, innocuous mystery
But he grows antsy in clutch,
And I feel the potential energy
Revving inside the engine,
While disconnected from activity
Aside from covert strafing
From sideways positions
Keeping up appearances
Avoiding transitions
That could further expose
His bloodlust, but his hatred grows
And where this ends

Neither of us knows.

It’s only in Your care
I find any rest
And when I pound my fists
It’s just against Your chest.
There is no One like You,
Sovereign Most-High,
Long-suffering without end
You committed to die
And still wait for Your recompense;
You still wait for Your reward
Which You believe, unwavering,
Because You know who is Lord.
You know Who You Are.
Let every atom reverberate:
Let them vibrate in exultation
Until all creation is a song that resonates
The frequency of praise,
Ceaseless and deep:
May it be a lullaby
To the God who never sleeps.
Most Beautiful One,
From whom all beauty is grown,
Whose cellular residue
Is the greatest beauty I’ve ever known
Let Your tender kindness grow like vines and roots,
Your compassion spread and rise like leaven,
Until Your kingdom come; Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
Oh Timeless Caretaker
Break up the soil that’s hardened
Shine on us in Your radiance:
Tend to Your wild garden,
Weave through us Your work
As only You can do,
Because all that is, all that can be,
Is entirely dependent on You.

Fix Your love on Your possession
So that we may know
Because You alone are love,
And Your countenance is grace bestowed.

Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no comforter here?
I have spent a lifetime
In a tide of tears
And my only joys
Aside from You
Were spun on webs;
They weren’t true.
They were designed to trap me
And drain it all.
Have these weapons prospered?
Hear my call!

Why is the health
Of Your daughter
Not restored?

What are all these tears for?

I miss the tenderness
Of my children in arm
Cradled and cooing
Soothing their alarm
With song and kiss.

I have been bereaved
Of my motherhood
While they live
Please see all I’ve withstood;
I am greatly aggrieved.

How should I put this right?
By giving everyone a pound of flesh?
Everyone wants a bite
Of whatever is left.

I could break free
By tearing asunder
The design of me,
But it becomes empty plunder.

No one has ever loved me;
No one has put my good first.
And their apathy has shoved me
Into the hands of the absolute worst.

I know I carry all the blame as well,
But this hell

Was never my intention.

I woke up here alone.