almost but not quite

I’m tired of school and friends and being superficial. I wish I could sleep on the matters of my life, and never have to relive them again. But right now I am living them. Friends turn away, I change, they change. Suddenly the voice of the crowd is all I hear. I’m left to face the world alone. An emotion that I’ve never felt washes over me, life spills and shatters to the floor, leaving me to pick up the pieces. I wanna forget, I wanna scream as loud as I can with no pillow to muffle my voice. A voice in anguish, the world feeding it solitary confinement. A voice in pain and suffering. My hands flex in rage at a world of hatred, raining insults at me like stones, hurling spit at my face their voices clear.

Rejected, I fall to the floor on my face, and bleed. Lying here I close my eyes, the scream stops, and footsteps grow faint. I open my eyes and look into the eyes of a man, eyes full of pain too, yet merciful. They hold me, such eyes as these can only be from one. The world behind him shifts, then picks him up on two planks bound together; nails in both his hands and feet. They watch him in his pain, laughing, cursing, and spitting.

His eyes search the crowd, then fall on me. His pain does not distract him; his focus is me (us). Me, a slave to a chaotic world, bound and in shackles, staring at the key. He watches me, seemingly listening to my mixed emotions, then simply nods.

Suddenly he is beside me again, this time lifting me up and wrapping his arms around me. I blink, he is gone, but his arms are wrapped around me still.

The shackles have fallen, but the scars still run deep, and I am left on my knees at the foot of the cross. Scared, but not alone, crushed, yet not defeated. Displayed at the feet of Jesus; where soon you will find me dancing.