FROM SCARS TO STARS
[1 Corinthians 2:10J Now God has revealed these things to us by the Spirit,
for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God."
Ancient eyes states the nile has scars of ancestors.
A threshold of oblivion hides the memory.
Merset an he experto ee connecting.
It i s b e a u t i f u l .
I am e x c i t e d t o be h e r e .
F a y t a g i n t h e f r o n t y a r d , a f i f e n d a c e t v e s .
Crying, devastated, broken.
Her t e a r s r i p through me l i k e b u l l e t s .
She says her daddy hurt h e r.
She says her daddy raped her.
Her a c h i n g s o u l o v e r w h e l m s m i n e .
I feel her c o n f u s i o n , her b e t r a y a l .
Her s h a t t e r e d l i t t l e w o r l d .
I worry, we may never heal.
Buckling, breaking, imploding.
T h i s . . . f e e l i n g . . . t h i s "od, i don't understa sue
s u f f e r i n g . . .
please help me understand."
Answered p r a y e r s come.
T a k e c a r e what we w i s h f o r .
They're listening.
A c h a o s k n o w n b y m a n y n a m e s i n v a d e s .
A b u s e .
Neglect.
Rape. Poverty.
Hunger.
Addiction.
Rage. Sadness.
Hospitals and s h e l t e r s on r e p e a t .
Mother i s always c r y i n g .
Wrapped i n a blanket, huddled before music.
S o r a r e a t e i n a p e l e s s y b r o k e n , a m a g e d , u n l o v e d .
I am what I know.
Years fall away.
This is my miserable l i t t l e life.
A ghost amoung the living.
IV takes me away.
Grace Under F i r e .
The irony.
Knock knock, s a y s the p o l i c e .
Nying, me little broner is crying.
L i k e I h a v e n e v e r h e a r d b e f o r e .
I don't understand what they are saying.
Monny is dying•
A bullet of self loathing.
Aw could she hate her life that much?
My brothers, my world, my life,
t h a t i s t h e one she hates.
I have never f e l t so alone.
I f a l l .
From a desolate landscape into total darkness.
The inversion of explosion infects everything I t o u c h .
My tongue knows only venom.
My h an d s , o n l y b l o o d .
My feet, only ashes.
I am a i m l e s s rage.
I am d i s t o r t i o n .
I am depression.
I am t h e human c o n d i t i o n .
It is here I build my temple.
My home.
Alone in silence.
Surrounded by a crowd.
No friends, only victims.
I s t i l l feel, maybe more s O .
A one way bridge, soaking i t all in...
Like the c h i l d I once was.
Shame has become my God.
Self destructing and will not die.
This skin, this l i f e , my own private hell.
The are celess te at sanonet, any worse.
Seared into my soul, I see him.
Broken, bleeding, dying.
I h e a r him.
Fighting for a life he doesn't get to keep.
S u i c i d a l tendencies dig deeper holes.
Why won't I die?
God, why won't you have mercy on me?
Prisons, inside and out.
Morning exhaustion contrast long days and longer nights into relief.
i i s ever eth before me-
I find only the darkness I call home.
Ten inside the sound of silence.
I am...
It i s .
We are.
The voice of an angel.
steine te, "what are you doing in here?"
"Me too," she whispers.
2
I ask, "How did you come into this place and find me?"
memory i s broken. She d o e s n ' t remember us.'
With a trembling voice and cascading eyes, "I miss them all so much.
I don't know why they l e f t me behind
Quieter still, "So I think I have always been here...as long as I can
remember..." With subtle intrigue, 'How'd you get here?"
I am speechless.
In an instant my eyes search the depth of hers.
The a m p l i t u d e o f t h e j o u r n e y e l e c t r i fi e s my s o u l .
And breaks my h e a r t .
She i s pure, innocent, beautiful.
She i s my hero.
A bright star in a dark place.
I know, I am not alone.
I n e v e r was.
I am broken and love broken things.
So does she.
Revelation-
God has a plan.
My s c a r s have p u r p o s e .
I was made f o r h e r.
She was made f o r me.
We w e r e made f o r t h e w o r l d .
e amenter the mission.
So many more a r e s t i l l l o s t .
Arald.
Aching •
Crying.
Confused.
C o n s u m e d .
In darkness.
Their journey i s t h e i r own.
I am no a u t h o r i t y.
I am not right.
I a m a s e n t n d e r , t h e y a t e h o t a l o n e .
I t s enough.
To love.
To c o n n e c t .
To belong.
To h o p e
To inspire.
To know.
We are not alone.
Its enough.
I know.
Because I am.
We a r e .
G o e s o u r n e y f r o n s c a r s t o s t a r s .
-Luke Hundley