Walking Alone

Hot searing anger poured out in
wrathful ribbons of frustration,
hate and fury

I’d done nothing
NOTHING
to deserve the life I had

Why was I blessed? Chosen
Why wasn’t I tested?
Why was I being given a
hall pass, when she had only
known sorrow, sadness, loss
and loneliness

God doesn’t give you
more than you can handle
was her tattoo

Strong, prominent, bold
inviting, repulsive
in your face
Taunting

I had nothing to offer
in return
to the allegation
being without tattoo
or God

Perhaps God had
given me what I could
handle

Maybe he knew
I was walking
alone

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