Knowing my place
How do yo choke down the dry mouth?
Remaining silent in so many things but that is what Jehovah has asked me to do. So here I am staying quiet. Yet I scream inside.
I set all free. Giving so much for growth. Why didn't I see how much I was killing? Why was I so selfish?
I guess I had hopes. Perhaps that is the best thing to always be by myself. To not think. To not feel. To not need anything, ever.
I liked who I was before everything. I didn't like my situation but I liked me. In a way. I knew what was expected of me. I understood my role in the world. Welcome mat. Tossed out wife. Lonely mother. Fat slob. Then I became free.
Finding another voice. Then I was harlot. Loud friend. Wild spirit. Still I knew my place.
Yet here. I still have the mind to see a home. I know that I am Jehovah's child. Yet I don't see how I ever fit. I was the mess that was to stir irritation, grit into people. Grind I did.
Still have yet to understand why I was found. Don't even try to comprehend Jehovah's reasoning. I just have to be where I am told. I just have to understand or learn from all things. I can't just stand still. Even though there was no place for me to go to.
How though can anyone move?
I don't expect that anyone ever understands I really don't fit in anywhere. Nor with anyone. I just try to maintain some sort of compassion for all and yet I know I mess up. Yet I still strive for the light inside every situation.
I was placed well, I suppose. And still does that help me in any way? No. Just makes me crack. Want to disintegrate. But the rubber band of who I am does eventually bounce back. I learn. And I grow. Usually alone.
That is okay. I have accepted there is nothing that can mesh with me. Even tightly woven rope become unraveled in my presence. I must be poison.
I suppose that is a good way of looking at who I am. Poison. Don't touch don't even get close. I harm in so many ways.
Solitude. That is how I have to go on. Warning people who try to get too close. Stand back.
Danger signs need to be labelled upon my soul, etched into my skin. I need people to understand this. Perhaps then none can gain the harm. Digesting nor absorbing. Just standing clear of toxic waste.
I like that. I can know what is expected and not be bitter. All because I know my place.
Remaining silent in so many things but that is what Jehovah has asked me to do. So here I am staying quiet. Yet I scream inside.
I set all free. Giving so much for growth. Why didn't I see how much I was killing? Why was I so selfish?
I guess I had hopes. Perhaps that is the best thing to always be by myself. To not think. To not feel. To not need anything, ever.
I liked who I was before everything. I didn't like my situation but I liked me. In a way. I knew what was expected of me. I understood my role in the world. Welcome mat. Tossed out wife. Lonely mother. Fat slob. Then I became free.
Finding another voice. Then I was harlot. Loud friend. Wild spirit. Still I knew my place.
Yet here. I still have the mind to see a home. I know that I am Jehovah's child. Yet I don't see how I ever fit. I was the mess that was to stir irritation, grit into people. Grind I did.
Still have yet to understand why I was found. Don't even try to comprehend Jehovah's reasoning. I just have to be where I am told. I just have to understand or learn from all things. I can't just stand still. Even though there was no place for me to go to.
How though can anyone move?
I don't expect that anyone ever understands I really don't fit in anywhere. Nor with anyone. I just try to maintain some sort of compassion for all and yet I know I mess up. Yet I still strive for the light inside every situation.
I was placed well, I suppose. And still does that help me in any way? No. Just makes me crack. Want to disintegrate. But the rubber band of who I am does eventually bounce back. I learn. And I grow. Usually alone.
That is okay. I have accepted there is nothing that can mesh with me. Even tightly woven rope become unraveled in my presence. I must be poison.
I suppose that is a good way of looking at who I am. Poison. Don't touch don't even get close. I harm in so many ways.
Solitude. That is how I have to go on. Warning people who try to get too close. Stand back.
Danger signs need to be labelled upon my soul, etched into my skin. I need people to understand this. Perhaps then none can gain the harm. Digesting nor absorbing. Just standing clear of toxic waste.
I like that. I can know what is expected and not be bitter. All because I know my place.
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