Piece.

All the words are jumbled up. The feelings beginning and ending together. The tears flow from deep within. From a place I cannot name and do not know. 

This place inside me crawls out of my deepest parts. The place that I fall apart alone with you. Where only you can see me. The softest part of my heart and mind exist. The place where I am my most weak. Where your voice is the only one I hear. This is the place I die. Every day. The only place you can save me. 

I've spent every moment of my life hiding this place. Only to have you rip me apart and expose it. You use it for your glory. My pride a causality of this fight. That's why I am so mad, isn't it? You took me apart, in front of others, let them see a part of this place inside. 

I spent years protecting it, a lifetime. Perfectly cultivating how much I would show. 

Then you and I crashed into each other. You tore me open so I stood without cover. I thought it was for a certain path or reason but that path is now closed. Now that girl is gone. That child that could hide as easily as she could breathe no longer controls me.

You exposed the liar in me and replaced it with Truth. But for what? That's the part that is burning me with anger. Little specks of indifference growing. The black cut across my heart scrabbling to gain more territory. That person that died frantically trying to rise because my mind is convinced you did this, out of spite. 

Built me up to let me fall. After all isn't that what all of this is worth? No one left on my team. No one left to stand beside me. Each day, week, and month I have lost more and more. The stability I am positive you allowed and created now broken and in shambles. 

Is this a game? Was it all for your amusement? Did you enjoy my falling apart? The blood poured out and the unending tears? Was it worth it? 

Blindsided by the destruction and left grasping at the edges of everything that was safe. Everything that was home. More and more, taken and gone. I have lost so much through my years but more you 

take. More you ask me to give. 

The broken up hands that hold on so desperately are trying to hold onto anything I can grasp, still you ask for more.
"Uncurl your hands child. Let me have that piece too." 
I can't give it up. I can't loose this piece, Jesus. Let me keep this one. Even as it burns into my flesh and scars my hands because it is no longer mine I don't let go. 

You stand before me with outreached hands expectantly waiting. This impasse between you and me doesn't seem to be ending. I'm just falling apart more and more. Being mocked by own voices. The mirror I stand before and battle my demons. The demons are my own words. 

I can't let go of this piece because this piece is me, God.  It's me your asking to take. Round and round we go. Circling around until we come to this place again. My hands covered in blood from my wounds. Your hands waiting patiently. Jesus I don't know if I can let go. I don't know if I can give up this piece.

 All these tears and pains but no relief. All that is left is the pain. 

You, me, and the pain.