Naked and bleeding, my very soul is raw

Old meat hanging in a locker, surrounded by flies, squirming with maggots

My open flesh exposed for all the world to see

I see their eyes turning away with disgust

Spitting on me as they walk by

My cardboard sign has no words

I am pitiful even to myself

What will you beg for now?

I ask myself the question but it has no answer

And no one wants to touch this

I refuse to let her heal

Worthless is what she is

Let her lie there

Drowning in the smell of her own rotten stench

The air is thick with it, suffocating all her thoughts day in and day out

This is me

I am nothing more than raw

Job 23 verse 17

Yet I am not silenced by the darkness,
by the thick darkness that covers my face

Sometimes I wonder just how many of us are direct descendants of Job.

This entry was posted in abuse, Faith, Life, Love, Uncategorized, Verbal abuse and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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