Her Song

I can still hear

Ashes skirting the corners of his words

I don’t want to be here

In this flaming whirlwind of memory and pain

Calling forth every singeing punch

And the hot tearing of flesh

I weary of flailing against

His tongue

His fist

His dick

And I succumb to the crackling of death

Memory and pain burn asunder

I am Risen from dust. 

Yeshua,

I remember going to Lake Tobesofkee with her.  I remember her coming to Hinesville to take care of me and my brother.  I remember her cooking and feeding me.  I remember summer with her.  I remember visiting her at Dobbins.  I remember going to the skating rink with her.  I remember the joy.

And I remember the Thanksgiving when she was in her third trimester…nearly due with the swell and unnatural hue of a fresh beating upon her face.  I remember the tremble in her smile as she wore someone else’s wrath.

I remember, I remember, I remember, I remember, I remember, I remember, I remember the joy of loving her then just as I do now.  I love her without fail.  I am proud to call her Auntie.  I am proud to call her mine.

Beloved Messiah, I have one request…show her The Way.  Show her how.  Show her the Power, the Glory of death and resurrection.  Show her how to release memory and pain.  Show her how to give up the ghost of him.   Ase' 

"He took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her, Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say unto thee, arise."   ~Mark 5:41