Teardrops rest, unyielding in my eyes
As sleep, ever-elusive is kept at bay
I sit up in bed, flip on my lamp
and turn to face the mirror on my left
I see lips, red, slightly parted
I see skin, freckled
And auburn hair, wild and untamed
Everything had an orange-y hue
due to the golden lamp glow
I see also my furrowed brow,
a forehead, carved with lines of hard times past.
I look into my reddened and glassy eyes,
surrounded by puffy and swollen lids
and I wonder —
What is it that you see?
What is it that you see in me that is worth your sacrifice?
That is worth everything?
I’m so afraid that others will see the broken mess inside of me. The hurt. The pain. The depression. The shame. Why do you care and know me by name?
I understand in my head that you love me but it’s hard to fully comprehend what that means.
I don’t want to be heard or seen fully – those deepest parts of me.
No one would possibly want me then – there are too many cracks, missing pieces, and stains for this broken vase to be anything of worth.
Not only do You know the darkest parts of me… You allowed those circumstances in my life which I allowed to breed hatred, distrust, and fear. Parts of my heart have been ransacked, ravaged – I have not yet been restored. The parts of my past which cling to my soul like bastard barnacles affect my present and seek to steal precious joy and life from within me.
I know this must be because I haven’t fully allowed you in, I haven’t allowed you to purify and cleanse me.
Can I bravely and honestly pray, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” ?