The Hour of Our Deaths, Amen.
I thought he was going to kill me.
He pushed me to the ground and
walked away.I was waiting for a
dose of the poison he promised to
deliver all sinners. Instead, He gave
me only silence and allowed the sun
bearing down to remind me who the
girl with my face had been in the previous
life. My lights were off but it barely made
any difference for all the world allowed me
to hide in darkness. But when I was confronted
with the Grim Reaper, I didn’t get what I thought
I deserved. It was a twist of the knife to show
me where I could go and leave me behind-
leave me to see if I could make amends
for my mistakes. Leave me behind to
wonder who I could be if I tried to heal
my old wounds and release the self-pity
I had clutched for so long it swaddled me
like a blanket. The Grim Reaper pushed me down,
walked away without a word, and left me to myself.
What a trick of fate to present another chance right at the Hour.
Thank you for reading this piece. Special thanks to Taylor B. (for the dreams and all your kindness) and to Jessica Wildfire for a special essay which touched me and inspired me when wording the second half of this poem (the trick to overcoming abuse).
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