Displaced,
Alone,
Unsure of who I am,
I sit
And write
Of the lives
Of others,
Real
Or imaginary,
It matters not.
Tell myself enough
That I'm alright,
That I'm strong
And believe
That makes it true.
Or,
If it does not,
At least
I pretend.
I plaster a smile
Strong,
To my face
And greet people
In a normal manner
But I know,
Beneath the surface
Lie oceans of tears,
Longing
To break through
A barrier
Now struggling
To stand.
Seeing life
Through tainted eyes
Was never
My intention.
It is my battle
Not to become
A product
Of my environment,
That causes me
To act this way.
I distance myself
From people
And possibilities
And let few in.
Those
Who break past
My outer defences
Will still never
Realise
The truly dark
And sickening thoughts
That lurk
Within me.
Everywhere I look
I see possibility
For an ending,
A way out.
I do nothing though,
I now have counsel
In dark times.
There is one
Who has seen
My head
And heart
And loves me
Regardless.
He is ever present
To take my thanks
Or my abuse
And will never desert me
No matter
What I say
Or think.
He doesn't try
To speak back
Or offer advice
Or opinion
On the situation
In which
I find myself
But listens
Continuously
And unconditionally,
Getting little thanks
For his efforts.
He is my voice
Through the darkness.
He is my rope
To pull me back
As I dangle,
Precariously
Over a cliff's edge.
He is my one true constant,
Never to leave
Or hurt me.
How lucky am I
To have a God
Who loves me!