“Please Do not…” Another painful dot on the canvas of one large masterpiece that God is making. Unfortunately, as I have come to realize through a lot of reflection, God’s favorite medium is Ink…Red…His go-to technique: stippling. And he is making a mural.
Please, Do Not…
love—it will be easier this way.
When the chains cut deeper into these wrists,
Single links tightening and pressing deeper
Into the aching flesh,
It would just be better—if…
You weren’t here to say I love you,
Or that the shackles would soon be gone.
It is your faith in hope that is killing.
And of course—I wouldn’t know any better.
How much time it takes for a fresh wound to heal.
How if you pick at it and peel—it scabs—and
Then you want to pick at it and peel it some more.
No—I don’t bear on my own wrists,
Arms, legs, memory and heart,
Scabs and Scars.
No—I don’t know what to do
When someone says I love you,
And it will all be over soon—
But there is no belief in the gaze and nod,
But I know, I said.
Well, I’m sorry you just can’t, you said.
She needs to be alone, you said.
You said, you can’t go in.
If I had the guts I would have flashed
My wrists like a badge.
My pass is not a curse,
I promise—my blood and memory,
And puffy red lines of smooth skin,
They won’t make things worse.
You can plead with me do not,
But with bloody praying knees I refuse to kneel
Or submit—to it is finished hopelessness
Because it is not.
So please do not—
Please do not hope for less
Than shattered chains, the end
Of all your brokenness, being restored
To something new, or settling for someone
Less than you.
Please do not…love with less—than all
The love that is inside of you.
Never cover up your wrists,
Never touch your scars with regret,
Never, Never, Never, forget—
Please do not forget