You stare at me, your lashes screening your eyes
Your mouth draws tight and curls down
As you finger the cross on your neck.
You wonder why I don't touch a cross
Or move my lips in prayer.
I know why,
And your ears are deafer than dead bones.
You tell me again that I am wrong,
That I am loved, and I am wrong;
I am evil, evil: evil in so many ways!
I don't deserve His gifts to me.
Why don't I accept them?!
He died for me! He died for me to live!
Why can't I understand this?!
He died for me! He loves me that much!
No one else will ever love me that way!
I cannot trust my own heart, mind, or soul!
Why don't I just listen?!
Why do I hate?! Why can't I have your peace?!
You leave me, and my lips are scratched and cracked,
Glued shut by dryness.
They never said a word.
And you never let me tell you how
He does not love me
And never has.
He does not hate me.
I do not hate Him.
I tried to love Him,
But He shook His head,
Touched my hand, and gave me an empty kiss goodbye.
The fire died. The sparks cracked, then turned to ash.
I lie naked in the ash
And wait, alone.
How can I believe this?!
How can I not feel His love?!
Because
You need it more than I.
You have more hate to calm.