Philippians

Slit my wrists and hang me out on a line to dry.
There is nothing left.
I am your savior –
your sacrifice –
but no savior to myself.
Tears rush in to bloodied arms, cries for those I’ve loved and lost,
cries for those who have not yet gone within me.

In the name of the Father,
Soiled linens lay on the floor –
lost hopes of reconciliation.
Jumbled thoughts asking –
who am I today?
It will differ from tomorrow.
Once the lightning strikes again,
or the full moon rises –
and who I was then transforms.

Don’t pity those.
Who feel sorry for themselves.
stupidity and pride have set in,
nothing can save them now.
For I can do nothing without He who strengthens me.

As it was in the beginning,
Is now,
And ever shall be.

I am lost.
World without end,
a lost soul,
a troubled soul,
still on my bloodied knees with my rosary,
praying to the unseen,
for answers to silent questions.
Seeking help and forgiveness from the spirit,
crying out to Him –

for what I have done
and for what I have failed to do.
Amen