"I know my mother loved me,"
you deadpan,
"because she beat me."
People tell me now
that I am
strong,
but I wasn't strong
enough to hold you.
"God never gives you more
than you can handle,"
they say. I smile
crookedly,
nod politely,
knowing they are wrong.
God gives us exactly
more than can be handled
once in each of our lives, and that
is what ends it.
But if God loves us
the way
your mother
loved
you, She breaks us,
and we get more
twice.
Copyright © 2012 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.
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My god, Lynn, did you write this? I am dumbfounded. I detest that trite saying (God never gives us...) and it makes me want to scream. This poem is the perfect, raw antidote.
ReplyDeleteIt was good therapy to write it -- I'm glad to know it's good to be read, too.
DeleteLove you, Carolyn.
Love You Lynn
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