and these wounds and scars have never left my side and all this pain is more than just a memory and every time I see you cry and weep for love with written words my insides open up again, with pain? Yes. Aching, grasping for my death? No. Not for something so defeated. Now wrenched open not to bleed again (while drowning in the dark my trembling hands found purchase in the light) Rather, I suffer now to give you hope from my innermost being flow rivers of living water rushing through my veins once slit now healed rippling beneath my eyes once dead alive with light and staring "From death into undying life" I call And whisper in the dark of grace and life forevermore