My hand is on you to steady you
my words are there to inspire you
But some days they are not that
Some days, your own hands give you a backhander,
And you reel, remembering
The smack, the sleight, the bile
The moments when you were cold and alone
for days and years
And no one spoke up for you
Nooone countered with kindness
The world pronounced you ugly and evil
The word of God that you loved was weaponised against you
Wrapped up in
‘We just don’t want you to go to hell’
But you sent us there already
When you told us we could not love who we loved
You try it –
See how you like it!