Hooks

I hear you hiss that there’s nothing ahead of me but a red face and isolation.

My efforts, pathetic.

My brain, not fit for the task.

I try to shake off the slithery voice, but it makes its way into the chambers of my heart and inserts its hooks. 

A shot of piercing pain courses through my blood and I begin to shrink into a suffocatingly small world. 

Words and looks, once a neutral shade, have turned a devilish hue.

I begin to unwind, like a ball of yarn. 

All that I knew to be true now feels elusive, the whim of an optimistic fool. 

There seems to be no other option but to lay down underneath its weight 

And wait. 

Wait, with tears running down the sides of my head and into my ears.

Wait, with a shivering heart.

Wait, thinking rescue is for other waiters, waiting in the upright position. 

Wait, with a faith shriveling like the balloon that’s been under the bed since the last birthday party. 

I don’t know what it was this time

That let me know You felt sad, too

Perhaps, it was the warm drink steaming my chin 

Or the child’s hand that found mine

Or the memory of dancing in the empty field for You as a kid

Or when my finger touched the lake that popsicle-filled summer and I promised you

Everything. 

Wounded hands working on bruised flesh

Hooks removed, skin bleeding. 

You repair and heal

My Surgeon, my Brother.

I wonder (lips tightening, hands twisting)

if I will be whole before the next assault 

The scars on your side, wrists, feet and head seem to say,

I can heal anything,

Everything.