God Do Not Help Me
I have never known what kind of person I am
Except that I like to be alone,
And that loneliness is my best friend.
There has never been a time that I was not relieved
To feel my tears stain mascara to my cheeks.
At least I was feeling something
That was not anger
Or hatred of myself
Or resentment of what I could not do for others.
Crying is cathartic.
Crying let's me believe that maybe I can be new again.
May I can work harder next time.
Crying gives me a false sense of
re-born.
As if I can baptize myself in my own salt and tears.
As if God puts a finger on ever one of those fears
So that I could taste His holiness
Just once before I go back to fighting the drowning
That he cannot save me from.
I only allow him to bring me gasps of air.
For some reasion my pride cannot ask
Jesus to walk on water for me--
To lend the hand that I so desperately need
But refuse to admit.