Skip to main content

The Core of Me

by Isikol on devientart, boris tribute



My flesh, my muscles and my bones,
I flex and lift my bronzing tones,
I once was skinny, dust and dirt,
Now I'm built, I hold the earth.

Nothing easy comes to me,
Grovel, work, I can not flee.
Words haunt, howl, from my past,
Blows in frozen, bred to last.

By my brow and pumping grit
I resolve, no more, I spit,
Cradle to my bed alone
Four walls free me from that home.

Choose I must now - how I live,
Running springs no longer give,
Dig my own well, for my thirst,
Raging feelings, out I curse.

Cut the strings that held me down
Dangling offers - sins abound.
Taste the apple from the tree,
Rotten to the core, I see.

Pleasures, crutches, hold me back,
Mirrors glaring, what I lack,
Smoke defuses, nothings clear,
But the song of panting deer.

Brawn and might can get me far,
Still I'm crawling on the floor.
Willed erect now, full of pride.
Satan lurled me, 'course, he lied.

My redeemer, sees my core,
I can't open, the king's door,
Mercy needed, costly grace,
Lift me from this miry place.

Cursed I thought to bend my knee,
Humiliated, made me plea -
Kept it silent - evermore,
No one knew what - I endured.

Twisted up my sense of self,
Felt like trash, I lost true health.
Left my hope, my heart steel cold,
Forge me, liquid, with blood coal.

Sanctify harm, done to him
Holy love, blood, covers sin.
Purify the death dried stains,
Light life fire, through his veins.

Out of evil -can come good
It's the story of "he could"
Yet, each must choose his own fate
To be written his-- eternal state.

Listen little 'core of me'
Even Atlas Bent His Knee!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Weak and Selfish - I am That Girl

The preacher says we are all the body of Christ...that each member is necessary, a part that functions in unison with all others, but God, in this life--in our time spent on earth--in present day local churches, this is not really true. It sounds good, repeated over and over, because the Bible says so and therefore we all should. But churches seek the best, the ones that fit their mold, the ones who meet their mission, the one that helps their goal. They keep track of numbers, saving all the souls, running them through baptism, collecting them in the fold. But those of us with broken parts, not shiny like the rest, we hear what no one else hears, we feel words with our soul, we sense when something isn't right, therefore we get left out in the cold. Who wants to work with such a pain, she is trouble where she goes, she stirs the pot and sifts for truth, she sees the thorns and not the rose. Why can't she just be silent, "if you don't like...

I Want To Be Normal

I want to help others but I can't help myself. I love and know God and trust Him too, but that doesn't stop my brain from being a jumbled mess.  Jumbled thoughts can be pretty! Scattered thoughts keep bombarding me.  I feel like a rattle-head.  I think I wrote once about this before, being a rattle-head . And it was the least-read post...Even I couldn't relate to it much after the episode passed. I have cried out to God for help this morning and for the past two days. I have gone to others for prayer and carefully, with exercising great inner control tried to explain to my family of three teens and my dear husband (I almost didn't want to say dear, oh, how hard it can be on a marriage--to twirl out of control and to not know why or how to make the top stop spinning). I don't know what pushed the top into its first spin.  And that is part of the problem I can't think clearly. I can't remember even simple things.  It is like the f...

Another Lost Day! (Life after child abuse trauma)

Another one.... another lost day.... they add up so much... so many lost days. Running on the inside, hurting on the outside. Words, oh so many words.... healing, clinging, cutting through, knowing, telling me what to do. And do I do it, or must I wait? And who can do it, or must I stay? Running on the outside, hurting on the inside. No one will see.... how they hurt me... No one will know.... pass by so slow. And does it really matter? Can it make sense? Is it so important? Looking through a lens..... Running for a living, hurting cause I'm dying. no hope, no flight, no chance, no life..... crystal spinning..... little eye lids close.... Is there any hope? Will it really help? Who will reach her know? No one seems to know? And does it really matter? Does anybody care? A blimp in the universe, with who will she share..... Can you hear it, getting louder, bellow screaming, shouting sounder? I can't hear a word. I can't see a sound. How can it be? I d...