Inside/Outside

Your wounds don't show from the outside

Beautiful blue eyes and an angelic face.

Sweet smile and almost always

quiet.

But you don't fool me.

I see you raw and bleeding

unwittingly stabbed

with the daggers of

“made-to-be-used” and

“not-good-enough”

and

“not-worth-it-to-me”

by hands that were created to

hold you instead.

The lies the Liar pours into your heart scald

like boiling oil,

and you are slowly becoming convinced that

ugly

rejectable

too-much

and

wrong

is what you are.

Your problem is

That you still feel.

When so many have shut down and

numbed their pain with

drugs or

sex or

anyeffingthingthatmakesitgoaway.

You still try to swim

lacerated

against the current

of salt water.

Even for that I love you.

And I pray that you will recognize the lies

for what they are.

And I pray that you can see what I see:

a Father who loves you

desperately.

Who stripped and bare

stayed

bleeding on that

rough wood,

to conquer lies, and the liar

and to heal
all the wounds in

your heart.

Because you are

loved

and

wanted

and

longed for

and

delighted in

and

worth it.