Bruised

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The thoughts run through my mind, faster than I can catch them.

     Torn,
                                                                  broken, 
                                  wilted,
                                                                                                  deflated,
                                                      uncertain,
            tired.

I want to put an end to these things,

but they
                  wear on me,
                                             push me,
                                                                        taunt me.

I need to come apart. 

Be pulled apart. 

Be taken down and built back up.

I'm tired of the things I can't comprehend. 

My heart beats with a heavy emptiness. 
                                        
                                                        I want to be filled.

I'm tired of the counterfeit fullness. 


He will not crush the weakest reed
or put out a flickering candle. 
He will bring justice to all who have been wronged. 
Isaiah 42:3

 


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