A Stunned, Sour Truth

        The restricted views of displaced emotions causes
the sarcastic views to rattle down. Spiraling into a long
released sigh.

         Careful of the treading because never really feel
that the layers unfold or if they are trapped in a binder.

          Ah when to speak, when to express? Quite certain
that the voice is choked but alas the slamming on the
back far worse.

           Yet no one knows that I am in need because the
shared emotions are left blankly seeking blackness.
So here I want comforting but I don't dare say a word.

            So tired of the hot, cold and then the ice to fire
bits. Either be on tap or get off. No I cannot just
lay waiting, be the beck and call for whimsical moments.

            Either join in or shut yourself out. Not sure where
the leads go but I am going my way. Suit yourself if
you want to tag along.

            Alas I cannot control any one person to do my
will. All that wants to be near, around me has to accept
all of me, or none of me.

            Clarity stings just as truth does but I would
rather be stung thoroughly than left flapping in wind,
awaiting the next curve of hits.

            So dare you, I must. Stir your mind. Either
or I can only hope that you are going to choose to
accept what I am.

            Ah the slow turn around of a sour note. The
squeezing of the terrorized emotions. Gladly I dance
upon the nerve and press tightly the eyes in silent
prayer.

           A hope. Yes a hope that the shoving off of
me gains trust somewhere. For here I stand with so
much love shown but dark doorways greet a friend,
a sister in need.

         No no I do not stand here scared, just saddened
by the harshness of realizing imperfections. So sad
with tears that some don't even deserve to see the
torn moments I feel for their loss.

         A silent whisper, I echo into the wind. A hope
that those who play for attention, who have no
clue the ideas, the steps of my worn soles ~ that they
gain some sort of insight of me.

        Ah yes, I put my faith upon Jehovah. So those
who plan on pressing sad promises of friendships
and family, frankly have only my love.

        As for those who do look passed the rough
exterior, the ones do dare to see what the ticking
of me is ~ they are treasured beyond compare.

       So yes a few, down on one hand can be accounted
for. You know exactly who you are. Jehovah brings
you stronger, closer to me. Ever grateful I am to the
bonds within Jehovah's love.

      Ah indeed the emotions can be torn. Given a
severe beating from the world and family alike,
but I know I am enduring where I can because
Jehovah gives me that strength.

      So yes, the darkened promises of wishy washy
friendships I back away from, only in protection.
For those who are drawn closer, cling tightly upon
our friendships.

      Hmm. Indeed the sigh falls and the mind is
calmed after a clear prayer to my Father, Jehovah.
I can only hope somewhere, those who pretend
will understand why I cannot be anything but
sympathetic towards their imperfections. Still, then,
to just walk away leaving them to muster in the dust.
Just as they thought I would remain.

      No I have Jehovah. To me, that is the best,
truest friendship I rather have. So dear friend, you
are counted as the few. Then a couple or more can
be added.

      In all that has been learned, cliques are present
even in Jehovah's home. I look forward to Paradise on
Earth where no longer are these issues a qualifiers to
finding a place to be myself.

       I am with Jehovah as my rock. That will be
enough. All else can learn and be grateful for
the kindness I bestow where none is returned.