Covered No More

One of the last gifts I left my mum was a book about Mother Theresa.

The world lauds her as a great saint, a bringer of peace.

How is peace achieved in this world, though?

Perhaps, just perhaps it's by her prayers.

And maybe that's the dearest thing I lost in my life all those years ago...

In my life, I have been attacked so many times by different people. The harshest attacks always come at me.

From my classmate who tried to break my knee. Family.

Office colleagues. My conscience is clear.

The harshest ones have come in the last 3 years.

It is no coincidence. It was when,

That I lost my most devoted silent prayer warrior.

I have defended myself with all that I have.

But even now my hands tremble.

Even if I have tears

Because I'm so helpless

Mr prayers seem not enough

Where is that silent quiet prayer just for my safety

Where is my veil of protection from those attacks

And surely I am not alone. But I feel like I am.

I am exposed.

I know every day, the wolves might devour me

And sometimes I pray to be taken away

To not suffer the fangs and claws

Of those beasts

I want to run

But my feet are frozen

I don't know where to go

And every day I tire

More and more

I wish I was still covered by that loving earnest prayer of my mum

Cos life is dark sometimes

Even if I'm still alive

I'm so very scared

You, know, every day I ask - Why Me?

Why... Come after me?

Why not just release me, God?

Let me be free?

You make it easier to die than to be stabbed and spat on.

Its easier to hear the funeral bells than to face the mockery.

Easier to become ashes than to bear the thorns.

The fire of hell isn't that scary sometimes.

I am already burning anyway.

One thing about the pain is that it always goes away even if the scars remain

My only real supporter has left me here.

And where art thou?

Dont hide in the painting or in the bible.

You are more than just words. More than just text.

Show me that you live.

And I'm not the only one being attacked.

#gaza