My mind is filthy, the thoughts are filthy. The mind is wounded by transgression, for every right thing I think I have is but another character flaw.
The mind is levitating towards thoughts that should be banned. Thoughts that do not promote health but rather death. But I will not be party to destruction. I refuse to let my mind fall into that rhythm. I choose life.
This is the end of it. The end of my filthy thoughts. GOD said no to this and SO do I.
Exodus 20:3
She sits by the wayside, pondering her next move. Her feet crossed over the bench, her hand tucked neatly beneath her thigh as the other hand holds her sagging head in place. She reminisces over the past and silent sadness permeates her eyes.
Her brown eyes lost the rhythm of her dance months before. Now they lazily roam the scope of her vision, lost and hurt. Her eyes, no one could look into them anymore for she would not let them lay bare her pain. Lack lustre and forlorn, these were all too familiar characteristics of her eyes. She sighs as the atmospheric reverence of her eyes threatens to break into torrential floods. With one more sigh, she thinks to herself how exhausted she is of the el Niño in her soul.
She quietly hangs her head even lower, shutting out the sounds of the past and trying to filter in the silence of the present. “Put your hand here…”, she remembers the smell, she can picture the stench.
Her short fingers pull tightly against the bench as it were, exorcising the thought from memory. She looks up to the heavens, silently pleading for mercy. “Is there no relief?” She quietly asks, waiting for a response.
Her tattered mind walks through the fame street of her memory, noting the “stars” and watching the expert act they play. The script written on earth, the pain ordained in her heart. The scars, painting the background and the shame screaming out “action”.
Another sigh, no relief.
Another intimate moment and she feels alone. She stands and walks. Meticulously shoving one foot in front of the next; forcing her disabled mind to focus on this one action, Forward. She walks along the road, watching as the cars and trucks roll by. She hears no sound, the memories are too loud.
She sees it. The long breadth of it. Winding its way towards her, she can’t take the noise anymore, “maybe this is the answer I have been looking for.” I muse.
I’m ready to kill the noise, “If my mind won’t stop I will make it stop. I will make it stop, I will make it stop, I will make it stop” she chants, moving closer to the edge. Between the pavement and the speed, adrenaline in full surge in her system.
Her mind pushing her and fear drowning in the space of death and she keeps walking to the edge and as it comes closer, her foot leaves the pavement ready to walk in its path, the driver blaring his horn, her head focused her eyes shut to the screams of reality her body ready to sacrifice the mind…
“Peace be still.” The still small voice stronger than a mighty wind, greater than anything and it pulled her back to the pavement. She heard the voice of the GOD of heaven who cares.
Her eyes lit with tears, she sits on the pavement as the truck rushes by and the wind pushes her back. Another averted event.
LORD can you maintain me, I am terrified I will try again and this time I will not stop till the last cut is the final breathe.
“Peace be still…”
Silence…
Hear me from the depths of my despair... See my screams in the middle of my mind... In the bottomless pits LORD can you see me.
She stares into the sky, begging, pleading for an answer... She is fighting for YOU and wondering do YOU care anymore...
Her heart is breaking she has begged for forgiveness everyday but LORD is there no relief? Is there no end to the abyss that surrounds my mind.
I have read YOUR word LORD, over and over I have internalized the words that say "he who faints in the day of adversity is weak." But CHRIST, YOU promised to help me. Can you see me?
Is the abyss so dark so dreary, can no sunshine break through? Is there no hope for me. She is trying LORD, help her.
Is there no words of relief? Is there no help for the pain? Is there no balm for my wounds?
I cry and scream, my mind is in need of change. LORD help me. Forgive me, help her, see me, hear her... LORD, save me from myself...
Abyss beckons my heart hither, threatening to caress my carefully constructed smile into ashes. This is not an unfamiliar place; it is possibly all too familiar, too close for comfort, too comfortingly close.
Abyss reels me in, searing my vibrant manic mind from its scenic colours observing the rainbows in life and showing my the dark rivets and lesions in my fractured mind. Showing me the unsavoury succulent seducing tears held in a numbened state of mind.
Abyss says my name eerily, yet hard as i try my effort against this darkness seems inane to its robust efforts at shutting my mind in a constant state of tumult.
Abyss is tenacious in its efforts to re-create a broken corpse.
The rapids of my descent quicken their steps. The rapids find me unprepared and seemingly unfitted with battle attire. Abyss takes advantage of this state of disarray to begin to espouse its deep seated darkness and my despair. It weaves a tapestry of my regret mirroring my shame and displaying my fear.
Abyss and oblivion, words i have etched and carved out of me; words that mar my skin with its vicious tenacity in tattoing its frame on my exterior.
My scars burn with desire, they burn with yearning as a man yearns to ravish his groin. So my scars scream their need to be satisfied...
Abyss will not rule my mind nor heart, you will not win this war. The stage is set and regardless of my ill prepared war attire, fallen drumset and dusty horn. Regardless of my failing sight and my imbued scars: this war is a war to be worn. I will not loose my mind, i will not loose the very fabric of reality and life I cling to....
Abyss your threats do me no harm; my fears will not feed your hunger, my tears will not kiss your lips, my heart will not bend and break, my will-restored to fight-will hold steadfast to what it knows, the light it knows.
Abyss, with renewed clarity my feet will not leave the ground, my mind will not succum to the pained numbness... My eyes will not dance to the music of your deathsong...
Abyss, i will fight to stay alive: this time i have cause and reason to live. Your unrighteous, unholy and unbidded lustful ways with razors and dreams, your tango with a numb interior, your sweet chastising fear, your innuendo's with pouring blood and your insatiable need for sorrow and abyss: will not rule my life.
You are not my abyss, you are a distant memory a forgotten and unwanted loss. You are lost to me...
Staring at the mirror mentally seeing the razor split open sacred and Holy flesh.... CHRIST, this is my cry for help.... Stop me before i kill her...someone anyone see this plea....
Someone see me....
Help me find my way back to the light....
Stop me before the asylum seekers find the rotting stench of pain and abyss...
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| ...Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words, your words mar my soul... |
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| Listening to my heart... |
