shattered

i sit there, nodding like i understand and agree

with her words

the words that say i’m not ready

the words that say i’m not enough spiritually

the words that infer i’m a menace

whose consciousness the congregation needs to be protected from

there is a feeble attempt to change words

as if i am coconspirator in my undoing

instead i feel the shattering start

pieces of my soul flying away into the ethers

hiding the sacred parts of me

in a place far far away

so far gone, those shards feel

irretrievable

irreplaceable

irredeemable

afterwards the shell of my body follows her around while she

casually mentions plans for rooms and painting

while my heart continues to crumble around me

like old oregano from a dusty spice jar

 

it has been a year

of sobbing

of unbearable pain

of soul searching

of endless hours tucked in the corner of the couch too broken to move

 

all the while showing up when i am able

and getting sick time & again

trying to soften the places where the shards stick out

snagging tender bits on sharp edges

slicing open again

oozing wounds and ugly words

desperately hiding in plain sight

wanting someone to make it right

sure no-one is trust worthy

listening to the tune about amazing grace secretly thinking

i am not worthy either

in my utter & complete brokenness.

 

wondering

questioning

beseeching

looking for the slightest of shard left

that can begin again

 

all those prior words

about

the soothing balm of grace

the bandages of faith

the eternality of the human spirit

the soul’s infinite ability to heal and be whole

were they Truth?

were they my truth?

those words vanished

banished from my vocabulary.

 

 

a tiny splinter of truth

surrounded by my calloused heart

finally works its way out through scar tissue

it holds the key

to every piece

every broken bit

every shard, sliver, and slice of my soul

hanging on to the most tenuous of thread

floating in the ethers

 

its time

to take time

to make time

to sing the song anew

and once again take up the weaving

of calling the scattered, shattered, battered bits

once again healing and wholing my spirit back into

this bruised tired body.

 

its time to smear the salve of grace

upon the jagged scars

to coax my sacred soul

back to its shining glory

find the ember of inner light

blow gently, breathing fire back

into the flames of radiance.

 

 

Kat Alessi

©2012

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About Kat Alessi

Twinkling Pixie Fairy. Cat herder. Believer in bliss, magic, grace and earthbound angels. Katalyst for change and transformation. Singer of random songs, sometime even on key. Able to talk, cook and eat food for hours.
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