Washed to Eternal

Hair sweeps past eyes like curtains when their ropes are pulled, released like a kamikaze waves of blackout. I have come to this moment with the reality of myself stripped bare and broken from chains with the manacles still ’round the wrist and a link or two attached, bloodied but you never cared for that I guess.  You look right through it… ahahaha… you always did and you always do, that is you in the plural and not so much in the singular anymore.  All you see is the black and the white, the dyed fibers of the cloth covering my body and my skin, like wax, white and lacking any sort of tone.

What I am not is what you see and what I am you don’t for that is the very nature of humans: to look only at the barrier that we all put up, everyone one of us, instinctively, whether we realize it or not.  We want to be cellophane, transparent.  We want to tell the truth but lies drip from our teeth like poison and we dare sink them into each other every strike of the clock of every minute, bearing the weight of it.

But it is in this moment that I want you to see me for who I really am and not who I’m trying  to be.  I can do nothing with the exterior so I’ll just open up my chest compartment and let you feel around a little bit and let you guess the object contained within since you can’t see it.  Here and now catch me falling or lead me to my knees for this is all I have to offer and I’ll give it away freely if you want.

My Father has taught me well and perfect the laying out of our servitude like grace we don’t deserve, like the  death that was undeserved and yet we take advantage of it and cheapen it because that’s what we do, isn’t it?  I mean, the blood is on your hands as well as mine and yet we’ll gladly stuff our hands in our pockets and hide it, pointing things out with tilts of our heads.  But it’s this blood that spills like a pitcher poured out and covers us all so that we all look the same on the outside, redeemed.  So, when you look at me and I know you do a lot longer than is necessary to actually just see me, you ought to have seen the exterior enough to be able to look past it into me and I’m here to tell you, brothersisterstranger, that all things you need to see are here.  And I’ve cracked open, laid out on my spine like an old Bible so that you too, can see the work of the Truth.


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