Bed of Pencils

I couldn't fall asleep tonight so I decided to write poetry. I was inspired by the phrase I wrote about a while ago "we hold onto grudges as easily as we hold onto pencils" that I wrote in a blog post almost a year. It's not fully formed out yet but I feel just like I want to get it out in it's raw stages and that's ok.

Laying on a Bed of Pencils

I cannot fall asleep tonight.

I lay awake on my bed of sharp nails of un-forgiveness,

tossing and turning mind racing from every single wrong –

what they did, where they were, what they said.

The sharp nails piercing my skin

bruising and bleeding – the reminders of the pain

I cannot fall asleep tonight because I am terrible at forgiveness.

But I am all too great at remembering.

Despite how many scriptures I read

or movies I see that tell me the same thing –

forgiveness is a choice that I must make

I hear the good words from preachers, pastors, and pulpits

sitting in pew after pew but nothing penetrates in brain of mine

other than all of the wrongdoing.

Oh I know I should make that choice every day.

It’s what the good Lord told me long ago ever since that prayer I prayed.

He said, “love others, forgive the wrongs did and done,

do unto others what you desire done unto you.”

doesn’t mean I do it.

Sunday school teachers and preachers drilled over and over

candy prizes for memories scriptures that I certainly don’t remember anymore.

To me forgiveness was a land of sweet marshmallow candy.

fuzzy feelings that are just as real as unicorns and leprechauns.

The fake stuff I only regurgitate because I have to,

because mom is watching me right now

waiting for the magic words that when heard apparently makes it all go away.

“I forgive you” –  which we all know only means I don’t want to talk about this anymore

because I sure as hell don’t forgive your sorry ass.

I hold grudges as easily as I hold pencils.

Writing my hatred upon the faces of my enemies.

Spelling out their failures – what’s a seven letter word for left behind?

“a-b-a-n-d-o-n” – abandon. Ding! Move onto the next round.

Sitting in a corner by myself with my sketch pad

sketching my the hurt of past onto relationships of the present.

Burning and bruising all those that have wronged me

I hold grudges as easily as I breathe.

With every intake of breath I remember –

The time you left me waiting at the bus stop

for two whole hours never knowing, never showing up

I stare at the phone willing it to ring, to explain, to justify

to give a reason because there must be one for all the waiting

you wouldn’t just forget, leave me here with my thoughts and memories

remembering the times of the past where I sat waiting by the window

for that red pick-up truck that was already an hour late.

The clock ticks on by and the sky shines bright but no car drives past that I know.

Now the moon rises over the sky but no apology comes.

Lame excuses whispered and half-hearted sorries said only to make yourself feel better:

“Got tied up at work.”

“Got tied up at work.”

Record stuck on repeat, repeating and skipping, skipping and repeating

the same sounds

“Got tied up at work.”

With every intake of breath I remember –

the time you hung up the phone too early.

I called in pain and stress and I got just a little bit less of your time

than what I asked for.

Didn’t ask for much in the first place – never do.

And you didn’t even ask the next day how I was doing.

I sat in solitary darkness, only feeling my tears fall, not seeing anything.

We were separated by roads and stop lights and houses

but you still couldn’t see anything – you shut the door,

leaving me hanging and waiting and sitting in my own shit.

I tried to be open and honest with you but all I got was –

“Can’t do this now.”

When you hung up that phone did you know that I went back to that bus stop?

Went back to the staying and waiting and praying – dear Lord not again

I will not let this happen again!

Years later the record changed sound but it still means the same thing

What’s a seven letter word for “given up?”

F-o-r-s-a-k-e – forsake. Ding! Move onto the next round.

I was mistaken to think I would never be forsaken again

I was mistaken to hope I would never be left waiting at the bus stop

sitting in my car, or lying awake in bed – unable to sleep

praying, wishing, hoping that I would magically pop into your mind and remind you to call

just to see how I am doing 

The red face of the clock shines an ungodly hour

and here I am still awake on my bed of sharp pencils,

I can easily pick up and hold.

Lord help me drop the grudges as easily as I drop the pencil 

because I need to sleep tonight.

I hold grudges as surely as the day passes.

each one blackens my already dark heart and keeps me

wishing, praying, hoping, saying, that things will be different –

as long as it they who make the changes.

I will be ok as long as it is they who arrive when they say will

or stay on the phone long enough to hear the cries of my anxious heart.

I will be ok as long as it is they who make every effort to change.

I cannot sleep – not because I am un-forgiving but because I am selfish.

I live in a world circling, revolving, spinning around my self-created needs.

I look to help in the mountains where self-created, ill-fated gods reside,

instead of my true creator.

I look to the idols of attention, desire, self-satisfaction, and independence

to bring me out of this pit of self-hatred.

To bring reprieve from the heavy weight of the fall and all the crap that comes along with it

- the separation – the isolation – the loneliness.

Can I look to the stars that shine above in the blackest of skies

hoping that some light pierces into the sharp selfish soul.

Here He is, the creator, the master, the savior who

never forgot, never forsook, never gave up, never gave in

who sat at the bus stop and in the car when and is sitting by the bed I was crying out to a God I thought couldn’t hear me
as I wept aloud in the screams of my own own hurt, I couldn't hear the whispers - 

Daughter I love you.

Daughter I gave everything to be with you.

Will you let the grudges and the hurts slips through fingers and fall forever to the floor

Because what good has holding onto them done for you.

He whispers.

Be free from the chains of your memories.

I cannot sleep because I cannot hear the words of my father

Be at peace. Your faith has healed you.