‘Are you ready?’

 

I’m not sure, Lord

if I want to give up

my pain

for I have become

fond of it

I kind of like

the vacuum suck of it

pulling me away

from outward work

down deep inside somewhere

I kind of like

the rage of it

soundless shout

I am in pain!

I matter! I need!

I kind of like

the secret of it

a tiger hiding in the grass

that only I can see

But when his claws

tear my skin apart

and the rage blocks out

all other sound

and the pain sucks

me too deep too dark

I cry ENOUGH

Make it stop, Lord!

Are you done yet

are we there yet?

I’m quite sure, Lord

Yes now I am

“Are you ready?”

you ask me

Let it go

my roaring friend

my familiar enemy

my pain