Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

Icy surface fractured, Cracked fissures, broken, Again, In many places. Many things shape us - broken ice woman by killersmemo DeviantART Fragile, cold, and hard, Flat edges, touched-- Seeps  The one healing bleeds. Softened sometimes, Within, burning heat, Deep And Pressured without. Hear the same tune, Cycles the jukebox, Spins Playing the encore. The ice pick hits, Grates and shaves-- chips, Flakes, Chisel shapes the form. Purpose unseen is known, By One Mind Above, Works Together For Good. She skates across, A well-worn surface, Gone To make her own mark.

She listens to them Handle the plans. Never asked her thoughts, She gives nothing. Needs are expressed; She is overlooked. What possibly could she do To help others? "Pick me," she longs, Wanting to offer. But dares not-- Too many rejections linger. To God she prays, He could suggest, If He wants. He would speak her name. In sadness she sits, longing to partake. Though she's never noticed, By those who cast the roles. She waits trusting, Her time will come. She will be allowed To be all that she can be. At least, that is the story So often told. To those who wait, His timing is perfect. To Him she clings. Hoping one day soon, Her time will join His And she will be set free. To LIVE, her life, to give-- for Him.

Ever feel like your brain is made of soggy milk-laden cereal bowl of shredded wheat? soggy brain That is how my brain feels today. I have been sick... in bed for five days (an eternity for me) and my moods have swung up, down, up, down, low, creeping, scraping, crawling, screaming, meanness. My eyelids are tired, struggling to stay alert. From mush to dried out melba toast has been the consistency of my brain. I have read everything in sight from old book, to new book, to newspaper, and internet article... then TV and tv and more numbing, who-gives-a-care tv.... to only roll back and prop myself up for the next book I pulled from the pile on the floor. No wonder I get crabby, crappy, get-away-free-me.... words, sentences, thoughts, people, doing, saying, going. All are moving on the electric escalating path to nowhere.  All is vain. Life has no purpose. Isolated. Disconnected. Meaningless. And how we try to pretend we are something... we ha...