Free Calls to God

I've thought a lot about it
over the past twenty years.  
Somewhere in the midst
of a wool blanket pulled  
out to pasture, and your
muddy socks strewn halfway
to midday, I found the  
meaning of my anxiety.  
It wasn't so much the dirt
making heliocentric circles
around the glossy brown,
no-wax finish; it was
your disregard for  
knowledge and the  
pursuit of something that
hung so low you could have
picked it without a ladder.
I spent too many days  
wrapped up in words that
never defined me. A callous
formed from the friction of
your tongue; ripe lashings
of derogatory statements  
forced my jaw to the floor,  
and while I was down there
god answered-
You have a collect  
call from-
I'm done, come  
get me.  

Written by Eerie
Author's Note
I do not miss that time in my life.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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badmalthus DanielChristensen NewBeginnings nomoth Honoria
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