The slant of his shoulders,
The way they shifted under
His shirt, a bible verse shining
Against the yellow fabric, into
The eyes of others.

Even if the words faded with
One too many washes, you
Would still feel the gold, the
Sound of the Spirit’s footsteps
As they blended with his.
His ambassador, a wordless
Expression of God's love and
Peace in this twisted world.

If I walked through the door,
Lips silent, would anybody
Know I followed Jesus?
Or was my heart obscured--
Split between the world
And my Father?

You never did say

Those words
Your eyes implied.
I heard them
In my head, all lies.

The last time we spoke,
I was bundled in the coat
Of my doubts, my feet cold
As they hung off the edge
Of my bed.

I complained
About the lack of warmth,
But I shook off the blanket
You tried to drape over my
Shoulders.

I stood up,
Bare feet on frozen wood, not
Knowing where I was going,

Only that I needed to be
Away from you.

My thoughts
Led me to the mesh door,
Out into the snow.

But my
Paranoid eyes only saw
White, stretching for miles,
Wishing you would appear
Among the blank hills.

That was when I realised
I only wanted to be away
From  m y s e l f.

The numbness
Of the cold was supposed
To distance my body from
My hatred of myself—

But now my limbs
Are turning blue and purple,
Freezing to the spot, and the
Redness inside only
G r o w s.

I am
Unable to walk away from
It, hide in constant activity
Like I always have.

And I don’t
Blame you for finally giving
Up on trying to follow.