Once upon a time, my mother's words would enlighten me.
Now life's obstacles frighten me
I pray to the skies hoping that these evil spirits could be harnessed
and my soul could escape this never ending darkness
because my anxiety never seems to cease
and cuts only physically ease
and drugs only bring temporary peace.
To think this all started with a left touch,
which led my depression right in.
I was only a child
why would he want so much,
these thoughts bring me back
to the nightmares.
I was raised with hurt,
not stories of turtles and hares
cruelty to children could never be debated as fair
as he rubs,
and I lay there.
arrest that man
and return my kindled treasure
as I am broken for another's sole purpose of twisted pleasure
and I left soul-less,
like the feet of Burma's children with nothing to feed on but
"But BREATHE Jess.
You'll make it through the night my child...
I hear His voice express
"But Father God,
it hurts to know that wicked men could walk your earth
and breathe your air
while leaving defenseless children with so much pain and despair"
The sky replied that wicked men are waxless candles
with a baseless fire that will never shine ---
Not even dwindle
But my star...
It will forever rekindle
So I look to the mirror and bow graciously,
and I alone
Have learned to live with such an ugly scar gracefully
And to those I've hurt along the way,
I apologize whole-heartedly,
understand that hurt was always a part of me.
But I’m ready to make it part from me.
On the count of infinity,
let us all gain the faith to leap
To open up our curtains and let the Heavens see
all the beautiful scars that mark us down to our feet
Rejoice with the audience and bathe in freedom
As we stand united like abundant bunches of wheat,
With the collective knowledge that it is no longer I,
No longer actors behind a veil,
but the promised and blessed meek
~ Or at least let the skies take a peek ~