Help me, God.
I don't know what to do.
She is a sword
stuck in my side.
Much like what happened
to Your Son.
She twists and turns
to wring more blood
from my weak body ...
I need your strength,
I need your patience.
I can't do this alone.
I need you to guide me
and I need your steady hand
to hold my weary heart.
(c. 2002)
Note: I'm not really sure which "she" I was referring to. I have a pretty good idea because there was only one girl who really made my life miserable enough to warrant this kind of poem. Suffice it to say she was out of my life quickly and hasn't made another appearance. To my relief and probably hers as well. I do believe this is for KP.
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