I know you are still hurting, but I'm giving you experience to help you down the road...
Right now my insides feel like a paper cut out.
You know how when you're in elementary and you lie down on a big piece of paper and your teacher or peer traces the outline of your fragile, innocent little body? Then the assignment is to decorate in ways and with things that represent and describe yourself? Then the teacher would hang them around the classroom, lifeless forms to stare, at swaying as the central air catches an edge. As I reflect on that memory, those paper people seem more real than I feel inside.
My insides are a paper cut out...
left blank...
never put on display because
it was never completed as the assignment depicted.
Still, the breeze catches the edges.
But with no anchor, it simply begins to curl up and blow away.
I'm on the outside, crayon in hand,
wishing,
wanting,
needing to complete the assignment of filling in
my paper cut out.
But I can't.
I seem lifeless.
Helpless.
Held back by something so heavy
it renders me immovable.
Heavy things like
fear and discouragement
disappointment and heartache
confusion and wonder
guilt and sadness
The crayon falls out of my hand,
limp.
Without moving my head,
my eyes shift downward
as the color melts into the hot pavement,
heat waves rising, distorting my now distant view of that
dwindling paper cut out
blowing away.
One silent tear fell,
evaporated,
just like all those "things"
that were suppose to fill the inside of
my paper cut out.
Right now my insides feel like a paper cut out.
I'm rooting for you
