“Push them to dirt until the words don’t hurt, can you hear me?”
-Shinedown

“Praise the Lord because He is good to us and His love never fails”
-1 Chron 16:34

The cruel tone of those around me beat
away at my eardrums as if I were standing beside a jet turbine

The halls are a deathtrap, and I am entangled in
their fierce grip with no escape and only pain

The classrooms and gymnasiums are no safer
as the tyrants that roam them are fierce and only wish to
show me their awesome power and poor vocabulary

The words are sticks, the fists are stones and
the breaking is not of my bones but of my heart and spirit

I am lonesome with no others but myself as an ally,
while the enemy is unfortunately many

If it is truly proclaimed that love is that of a battlefield,
then I must be where all of the soldiers go to rot.

My heart is like the stone that sits at the bottom
of the stream where it withers away below those that cover it up

I’ve lost it all, the marks on my wrists don’t help and neither does
the medication, they can’t stop the bruises that are on the inside and
outside of me.

It might be time to end it, and join those that have fallen before me
before I leave this cruel place known as my life, with tears pouring down
my swollen cheeks, I look up and see the face that must be the definition
of salvation and hope.

“Your tears shall be no more, stand” he says “And rise up with me”
my fear is gone; the pain lifts away from my body like a feather.

God has arrived.