I almost died some nights ago.
In a way I already felt dead.
Was so distraught at the thought of whispering tongues,
one person to another,
speaking of my failings with loose lips and itching ears.
Gasping for air.
Lungs closing in.
Desperate for a new breath.
a fresh breath.
But death closed in on me.
It felt as if hands were choking the life out of me.
The grave called out for me.
Darkness was swallowing me up.
I cried out, “God, Oh God! Why have you forsaken me?!”
“Please make it stop!”
But it won’t. Evil persists.
It pursues. Finding an open door.
Wrapped in the pretty package of Christianity and justice.
How can I free myself from the accuser’s voice of,
“You did this. You brought this on yourself.”
Help me. Free me. Put me out of my misery.