Blessed Lament

August 3, 2022 /

I wrestle and resist;

My bones shout, “WHERE ARE YOU?”;

And it is blessed.

I am alone, deserted;

I suffer in silence;

And it is blessed.

I escape, I distract,

I create space and numb,

And it is blessed.

I push back,

I accuse, I refuse

to break open,

And it is blessed.

I endure the pressure

to wrap stories in bows.

For it’s not well with my soul.

I want back some control,

or the illusion I’m owed

as I wrestle in throes,

And it is blessed.