*** Please note- this post is very raw. I wrote this as I was remembering***
I prayed to God that I would not forget
The times, the trials, and the life I thought I might regret
I prayed that the memories would stay raw
For others, whose pain, I saw
I was in Italy, a dream some may say
It felt like hell, my time there was only but one day
I walked around heart sheering in pain
I could hardly cope I wished my life done-my body in a grave lain
I believe I cursed at myself to not give up
Although, I had been told that there were demons inside of me
Which were speaking and someone told them to shut up
I was so confused not sure of who I was, or what to believe
“You’re a runner. You always run” I was told
Lost as to how to withstand the pressure, yet, scared to fold
I was determined to fight
But how and to whom am I supposed to hold tight?
Diseased is how I was portrayed
My wherewithal I knew was slowly being frayed
I kept silent, afraid to stir the pot
I began to anticipate my cheek being, by a hand, shot
There was so much tension
I wanted to die
There was so much condescension
No matter how hard I tried
I wished more than anything to be invisible
Since my presence brought such hostility
How could one person be so divisible
And me- I had become a person of debility
I could no longer survive
I was seen as needing more help than one could give
It felt like I was just a pawn to contrive
Although, I still apologized… it was (I was) too grievous to forgive
Betrayer, un-loyal, untrue
Were words I could hardly believe I heard
Wicked through and through
“I am beginning to give up hope” –so much for being reassured
Lost and alone
Not even knowing where to start – who to phone
Will they believe me ?
Even through they cannot see?
It seems implausible
I bought this lie for too long
Hope seemed impossible
I didn’t know where I belonged
We got out of Italy, thankful for a new member joining
I felt the pressure release a bit with a distraction
I felt the new member and I adjoining
Until, another seize of control and I was cut off like a knee-jerk reaction
The manipulation and control sent me into panic
Lack of appetite, and sometimes loss of bodily control
My mind fought so hard to keep me in check – if not I’d be called satanic
By the time I’d fled, the damage – already was done to my soul
I am grateful to know the pressure and fear
For now I know the meaning of so many tears
I taste the indescribable feeling of freedom
A tiny fraction of fellowship with whom they had to “bleed him”
He, my Jesus, held me when I crumbled
Stood firm when I was enraged
Helped me get back up when I stumbled
And when I had to pick up pieces- He was fully engaged
He allowed such pain for something so much greater
I didn’t see it at first, but I see it now
I must never forget, for of my story, He is the creator
For Him, I look ahead and keep my hands to the plow
