Untitled 4 (Version 1)

My thoughts
hah! Man, let me tell you what.
I’m so

And, it’s not like I always notice,
I go along with the motions,
so during the day everything is trivial;
but at night–
everything I push away resurfaces.

I run through scenarios in my mind where,
people let me down.
I’m betrayed by those who have my Faith then say to myself
I knew it was coming;

I’m just a mess, emotionally scared
so mentally I’m a bit fucked up.
I guess
           I’ve just forgotten
                                       I’m supposed to pray;
they say that we offer our pain up to God so He can take it away,
And we’re supposed to let it go and not think about it–

But I’ve always wondered,
“That’s it?”
Just bow our heads and speak low and then all this hurt is over?
The Pastors and their sermons make it seem easy, but it’s really
ten times harder than it looks;

Frankly I can’t just pray a little prayer.
I gotta cry, I gotta yell.
I gotta beg someone to hear me,
to come save me, and bear witness
–in such cases it’s not enough
to speak to someone who’s invisible.

So I write.
I publish the abuse I’ve sustained,
so it’s read,
and they know.
                  That I’m struggling to keep calm
and rise above all this hurt;

because my words are worth a thousand pictures, and speak louder than my screams,
so I hope that someone who reads them gets the imagery.
And knows
                  just how lost
I’ve become.

(C) Marie Meyers, 2013


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