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Hi, it’s me…

I called you tonight.

Just to talk.

I wanted to connect with someone.

I know you’re not my mother,

But I thought you could give me love.

I guess you do but…

Not in the way I ask of you.

Though this is the first time I’ve asked of you.

I try to reach out to you.

We manage to connect by faith.

You speak to me about biblical things.

I appreciate that.

But there are times,

When I need you to put your bible aside,

And just listen.

Listen to what I am saying to you.

Can you feel what I’m trying to convey to you?

You tell me that you can say more when you know more.

What more do I need to say to you?

Do I have to spell it out to you?

Perhaps even script it for you?

I ask you to speak to me from your heart.

To please show me your compassion;

A spark of empathy,

A little sympathy.

Your words, they’re not your own.

They’re true, but no warmth is in them.

Again, I asked for your heart,

But you hid it away.

Instead you give me riddles.

For you they’re probably parables.

You feel discomfort now.

The subject has changed.

There’s little else to say.

Sorry to bother you Auntie.

I just called to talk.

You Can’t Hurt Me

“You can’t hurt me…”

What say you?

You speak an untruth.

You are hurt and are sore afraid.

Pain beyond measure…incomprehensible.

Who hurt you?

You vow that no one will hurt you again.

“You can’t hurt me…”

Walls thick.

Enemies surrounding you…

You strike out.

They must be hurt before they hurt you,

Even if it means hurting yourself to hurt them.

But you’re not hurting them.

They can’t see you.

Not the truth of you,

Only a shell of you.

“You can’t hurt me…”

You’re screaming to be heard,

But there is no sound.

They can’t hear you.

They won’t hear you.

Do you understand?

The readers of your words,

Can they see the bigger picture?

Or will they seek to prove you wrong?

Visions of a deeply wounded soul…

Blood drips from your words.

“You can’t hurt me…”

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