Yanked From Darkness

The wild wind tears through
Groaning skeletons of trees,
And a girl lays curled in the dying yellow grass.
She is dizzy, feels like she is falling,
Spinning down a tunnel filled with clinging shadows.
This is the terrible, tangled landscape of her mind.
She tries to find her God, searches for His presence
Between the rocks and trees, but she can't see Him.
All she can find is the silver gleam of a knife
Slicing through skin, leaving behind
Red rivers on her arms.
She tries to scream, but her voice is
Quiet and hoarse with tears and is
Torn away on the howling wind;
Tries to stand, but is pinned to the cold ground
By vines of horrifying words that snake around her body,
Constricting, tightening, paralyzing.
They bite into the red-pink scars on her wrists,
Sinking through her skin and poisoning her blood, and
She can feel black shame and pointed memories
Pounding through her veins.
The heavy clouds above her turn
Iron grey and purple-bruised,
Slowly releasing cold drops of rain that collect
In leaves and dips and the girl's gaping mouth,
Gasping for air and peace and life.
The drops thicken, becoming stinging sheets
Of heavy tears that mingle with her sobs.
She feels raw, stripped of her protective lies and
Hidden secrets, exposed;
And as she lays curled in the mud
She glances at a mirrored pool and
Sees herself without her armor,
Bare and small, alone and scared and scarred,
And the weight of her delusions crashes through her soul.
And she screams.
She screams until her voice breaks and
Crimson, copper-tasting blood drips from trembling lips
And she is pinned down by her fear and shame,
And horror at who she has become, secrets curdling into
Sour darkness beneath her everyday smile.


She lays in the rain, numb, for an eternity of confusion
Slowly untangling herself from the pain that grasps at
Her sanity,
Tries to find herself within herself.
And she looks for the lights that make her smile.
Helping people, she knows she likes doing good.
Teaching, she knows she likes helping others learn.
Making others laugh, writing to help others see the world,
Doing a job well done, being in a community.
And her cold, blue lips start to lift into a smile.
And the rain slows, and the clouds lighten, and the trees
Begin to bloom as she learns to accept herself
Even with all her problems.
The sun starts to peek from behind the
Tattered remnants of insanity, and she feels
Warm for the first time in a long time and the
Color returns to her face and the grass grows
Greener and the wild winds subside into
Peaceful summer breezes.


And a voice resounds in the stillness of her heart
Telling her to follow her dreams and to keep this light
Inside her always.
And she builds a cathedral in her chest,
A tower of glowing colors and heat and love to
Keep her hopeful and help her find God's voice
And find her path beside quiet waters and green pastures
And find her seat at the table of her Father.