denial . . .

21 05 2016

PS red veins 1_edited-1

The one who denied the One

now denies himself along the shore,

in the presence of the Walking Word;

deflecting intimacy –

self-measurement against the other.

 

I am the one

denying Life within;

sacrificing intimacy;

diverting movement toward vulnerability and wholeness;

trying to find worth in the eyes others – even in the demise of others;

grasping for any validation I can’t seem to give myself.

 

I hold tight, my sickness – forsaking health;

secretly lusting after my own maladies –

a masquerade of security…holding them as virtues.

 

Denial –

baked by parched air into the foundation of who I believe myself to be;

dug from miry depths to fill holes where Truth might seep in.

 

I place my hands over my ears to avert what I might hear –

Your creature’s second crow.

I pretend You have misunderstood

when I tell you I know and have lived the rules,

and you still ask me to surrender what chains me.

 

I deceive myself.

I remain blind – fearful hands shielding my eyes.

I try to resurrect what cultivates death.

 

Worth it? This deal with denial?

 

I am the one.

 

Still…

 

Freedom waits patiently;

Hope just a breath away – a belief away;

Truth, my advocate – imploring endlessly. . .

PS red veins 1

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2 responses

22 07 2016
Wendy L. Macdonald

“…to fill holes where Truth might seep in.” That’s denial alright. Wonderfully written.
Blessings ~ Wendy

22 07 2016
gacochran

Thanks so much. I hope it is a wonderful weekend.

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