my place

my place
you cannot hear God
when you are trapped in yourself
i love you enough
to condemn your abuse
if i did not care
i would say nothing
and quietly disappear
the child who suffered silently
has become a woman
who knows her place
is to raise her voice
both in praise of His Greatness
and in protest of all injustice
you may curse me
spit on me
beat me
burn me
but you cannot hurt me
i am dead to your hate
filled with His Love
the drama is of your own making
and half your guilt
is rightly earned
by your lips and hands
the other half is yourself
beating yourself

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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