Edema Rue

Above the Storm:

Break me.

Please.

I want you to break me. I want to shatter into millions of shards that will stab into you and never come out, leaving you constantly bleeding.

Rip me apart.

Tear me into pieces.

Make me hurt. 

Make me scream until my voice breaks with me, until my heart can’t bare to beat even one more time, until I desperately claw out my own eyes because that will hurt less, until I am begging you to stop with every last breath I have.

Crush my spirit until there’s nothing left.

Or so you will think.

Tear at my skin until I am nothing but a bloody pile of meat.

Or so you will think.

Stab at my heart until it can’t remember the meaning of the word ‘love’.

Or so you will think.

Destroy my hope until even without you, I would break myself.

Or so you will think.

Break me.

Crush me.

Shatter me.

Destroy me.

End me.

Go on. 

Do it.

You can’t.

Not now.

You are a storm. You tear at the very stones of the earth, rip trees from their roots, crush shelters into coffins.

You cannot be stopped.

You cannot be beat.

You cannot be broken.

You cannot be outwitted.

But your winds only blow so far,

And your rains must fall from somewhere.

And I have risen above your lightning. 

Though you boil and blow and burn below, I am above you now.

There is no shelter within your storm.

But that’s all right. 

Because though you own the earth below and the sky between, though you are eternal, though you have the power to destroy me, 

I learned to fly.

And so I flew.

I rose like an eagle; I let your winds carry me above the clouds. And up here,

Your storm cannot reach me.

Your winds cannot claim me.

Your rains cannot freeze me.

It won’t last forever;

Already, my wings grow tired. The fear returns and I know that as you broke me before so you will break me again. I say the fear returns…but that is not right, not right at all. It’s terror, and it’s overwhelming. I’m terrified to know that there is no escape. Terrified to know that you will hurt me again.

And terrified to hurt. 

Terrified of the never ending hurt, the never ending terror, and the uselessness of it all because everyone else hurts the same as I do.

Only, I’ve realized something now.

Because while I sit here,

Above the soft clouds,

I am watching the sun rise.

I am seeing the light that has hidden behind clouds for far too long.

I am seeing a world of color and beauty and hope. So much hope.

Isn’t it wonderful?

The sun shines too bright to look at. It’s light touches everything, the silky clouds below and the dazzlingly pink sky above. It chases away the darkness, but even in the blackest parts of the sky are stars that shine with their own light. The moon, the blessed moon, the matriarch of the night, sits at the sky’s edge. She watches, ready to step in and fight against the darkness with her slender blade. But she doesn’t need to worry, not now, for the sun, the Son, is protecting this world with a gentle and warm light. A gentle and warm love. 

All this is here. And always has been, and always will be.

And maybe I just haven’t had the strength to fly up and see it.

And maybe it will be a long time before I find the strength again.

And maybe my wings will soon be too torn and broken to fly up to meet the sun.

But He is there.

The Son is shining over a broken world.

My strength is leaving; I fall; back through the angry clouds, back into the storm, back into the darkness, back into a place where there is no hope, no light, no warmth. No moon to guard me; no stars to guide me; no sun to greet me. 

Only you.

You, the storm.

Here to break me.

But I understand now.

Only the broken back can grow wings.

Only the shattered heart can be mended with gold.

Only the crushed spirit can befriend the moon.

I think I understand, now.

By spending a moment outside the storm, I have gained the strength to survive you. I have found the will to look up as you dig your icy claws into my heart and see the single gap in the clouds. I have found the strength to see the light where there should be none. I have found the power to mend each time you break me.

So do it.

Break me.

Crush me.

Shatter me.

Destroy me.

End me.

Because I will stand back up.

And every chance I get,

I will rise above you.

I will find the sun and I will bring its warmth back with me.

I will fly.

Break me.

And as I cry out in pain,

I will be growing a new set of wings.