SCARS by Rachel Runnalls

Scars

1.

He shivers 
when I touch his scars
and looks at me
open
like I could hurt him again

I hate that.

2.

Jesus, seriously
get it together.
You shouldn't take this kind of shit from me.
Your face is bleeding. You have bruises.
You could at least lift a hand 
in your own defense.

You know what? I like my way better.
Walls, Jesus. You could learn a thing or two about self protection.
Painkillers.
I guess there's lots of options
I'm a pretty conventional girl.
Two shots emotional distance
straight up.
Don't look too closely
Don't invite intimacy
Stick to the surface of things.
And if you can't do that
stay home.

I don't want to know about your pain.
Hell I don't even want to know about mine.

Quit looking at me like that.

3.

Let me                     He lifts his hands
unzip you                 
                                                     scars
tear back
                                      shine like stars
this shell you're in. 

I would put you        He has a wound      
here                                            open

I would carry you  
under my heart                in his side.
like a mother her child.

love
let me love you.
            

                        I can hear his blood singing
                                      a lullabye for me.)

by Rachel Runnalls

Comments

[Deborah]

Thank you for this.

[Ted Hill]

Rachel ... wow!

Gritty and honest. You explore an important aspect of our struggles of faith that very few put words to ... an incredible glimpse of what His love is really like when in sharp contrast to our fearful understanding.

The closing line - an image that I have been struggling with a lot lately, not struggling in doubt but struggling to remove this sacrifice from a dusty shelf of presumption and ordinary ... the cross has become ordinary and plain ... I preached a sermon recently titled - "Why the cross when you can do that?!" [THAT is referring to the Transfiguration] I want the results of the cross while minimizing the mess of it - ie put on the shelf of the ordinary.

I was struck by how "disgusting" the imagery of the cross is. You know the hymn There is a Fountain ...

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

So the tender closing line of your poem shakes the dust off the cross and my presumption and disregard for the deep love of Christ!!!

Thank you for your gift and the sharing of it in this poem!

TED