Edges of Freedom and Open Wounds
Why do people choose to end their lives?
Edges of Freedom
going over a cliff
freedom long sought
air not heavy enough to hold me
hear screams from somewhere
realize they are mine
briefly think how odd I must look swimming mid air
leaves are pretty this time of year
time stands still
yet ground rushes up quickly to meet me
finding my relief
no longer have to feel
no longer have to care
just my shell lying there
Help for the depressed
When I say I am okay,
I am not.
There is too much pain
I cannot make go away.
It will not stop.
My open wounds cannot be acknowledged.
They leave so much hurt.
Instinct tells me to withdraw.
That is the only way to self-preserve.
Where is my solace
Except in the lap of the Lord
Safely embraced in His arms?
They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles:
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.
When I cannot stand beneath the weight of my world
So full of have tos, shoulds, needs, demands
It is then I fall to my knees remembering
There is but one.
The Risen Son.
Is there rest when serving self before Jesus?
To erase my suffering and shame
Jesus bled for me.
Pierced in the side.
Hands and feet bore the wounds
To take all the hurt away.
My eyes show years beyond my age,
Years of a soul so weary of suffering and pain.
Is this my own making?
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