Ink On The Skin

When I am old, let me be gentle and kind, on my quiet porch with peaceful mind a rocking chair at end of day, grandchildren near in evening play. When I am old, let love remain, and wash away life's deepest pain. Let Christ shine ever on my face, as I go softly from this place.

The kids burst through the door Dropping their bags Shouts of Mom! Mom! "Look at my robot! It's so cool with its egg carton legs and tape holding it together." I could use some tape myself, To hold this aching head in place. "Mom, I need to tell you, this boy called me a bitch on the bus today." But you're only nine. Why does it start so soon? "Mom what's for dinner?" Dinner... I don't know Everything aches down to my bones; My fingertips scream at me, I'm craving someplace quiet Their laughter spills around me Like musical wind chimes But also like an overwhelming flood Its raining today and cold Cold like my prayers, Too many clouds, maybe They bounce my thoughts Back into my head. My insides are a dark hole, Pulling me inward as if I'll fold into myself. "Hey mom, I love you. Can I give you a hug?" 

Life spills across your canvas, never finished, never still. Deep blues pool in the valleys of your eyes, blending into yellows that burst with laughter, a sunlight smear of blush across shadowed cheeks Oranges igniting in your chest, whiskey flames,  burning sparks, kisses, pressed like fire to your skin. Greens breathe between your ribs between fingers intertwined, summer grass and the hum of insects, quiet peace weaving through motion Grays curl and drift like soft smoke, blacks etch edges, sharpen your corners, the outline of who you are against the blur of everything else. Pink dances across your cheeks, rosy winter snowflakes delicate balance on lashes, icy fingers, crisp laughter, white silence catching your breathe Reds bleed, screaming streaking across fierce and unrestrained survival, your heartbeat, heartbreak the raw pulse of life. Purple sunsets unfolding in your gaze, hands on hips, the horizon deep as wine, your eyes drinking tomorrow before i...

Why do I hold on to the things that hurt me? Clutching them tightly to my aching heart, razor wire wrapped around every bleeding part. Why do I long for it, that familiar comfort of pain? Brick by brick, I built it, layered thick in a blanket of shame. Ghosts wander the graveyard of meaningless expectations; weight piled high on the back of a child too small to carry it. To be good, is to be loved. My eyes swim, heat floods my face. To be quiet, is to be loved. Hurt becomes the armor; barbed wire holds me in place. Climbing out of the box in my head, dodging landmines and triggers, gasping for air because I am not yet dead! Water and blood overflow. My heart, saturated with grace, lets go of every aching part. Clutching His hand instead, and reaching for the stars. The comfort of His embrace healing my bleeding heart. Brick by brick, the wall comes down. His glory on my face.

 Was it the first time the rod hit me? that jolt of pain wrapping around me soft skin burning black and blue with marks that said I hate you Was it your hand? the sudden pain red blooming fast like red hot flames the sting and shame the searing trace the marks you left across my face Was it the screams? that shattered me that stole my breath and mind from me each wave that crashed each quiet plea unraveled all my sanity Somehow through that I stayed alive kept on breathing learned to survive but deep inside behind my eyes I tend to think I also died

 Darkness creeps in so agonizingly slow, a tide licking at my feet. With it comes the cold, crawling up my legs, nesting deep within my bones. Bones that beg for warmth. My bed becomes my solace. Sinking into softness and the warm embrace of sleep. My thoughts begin to fade; the warmth devouring the cold. But then the fire begins. It’s crawling up my spine, clawing, gnawing, putrid hands tearing flesh from nerves, from bones. Chewing at the edges of my sanity. And then… almost… sleep almost finds me but I am not alone in this night. Another set of hands, still attached, still warm, still needy. A whisper curls into my ear, a cruel disguise of love. Let me cure your aching bones. Let me take what I am owed. Sleep will never come, only the slow unraveling in the dark, in the teeth of the night.