Glimpses of, What might have been,
Nightmares of what has been.
Days spent in restless anticipation
of fear, nausea, hope or despair.
Hating my own hair and teeth,
revolted by the marks on my flesh,
loved by someone who stands by me
Day on day, hour on hour.
No criticisms or judgements,
no one to take it away,
people trying to shield me
but no person ever can.
The truth is bare, gritty and awful,
the facts and trials tell no lies,
but beauty is there and Jesus
a solid rock, a pinprick of light.
I go down and down and down.
Into a pit of blackness and tears,
Weary now, how can I
climb? Much easier now to fall.
Where is the bottom? When will it come?
Has it passed? I pray for hope.
Is this up? Is it the mud?
where I play Ein Audi over again.
The music is muscle and tears cleanse,
Love weaves a path through
and years pass and realisation slow
that from 24 hours a day to