Dry Bones

It was in the Word that our demise was found
You were skill-less in your rant
Yet calculating in your approach
Regurgitated flittering bits of hate
Heralding in the empty love
You would lastly profess
It was in the swelling rage
That vision finally found Me
We had always been a dead thing
And I Am done reviving those dry bones

You have to touch the wound

Hurt them in the places that they hide.

All you have to do is see it.
See it and the proper words will flow.
See it and show them that it’s there.
See it and take away the shame.
All you have to do is see it.

But then – You have to touch the wound.