Torn # 50

Polarization is my language.
Torn to the bone it breaks my soul.
Indoctrination is my anguish.
A product of a broken home.
The pain is like a phantom,
Leads me astray emotionless.

Indignation is my baggage.
I carry it until I bleed.
Infatuation is my damage.
I care more than they can see.
This feeling screams from my atoms.
I am splitting until I am connectionless.

A Crucifixion is my passage.
The nails hold me from hatred.
Affliction is my message.
My scars are conflated,
Fusing together in wisdom.
I adapt and become ceaseless.

2 Corinthians 12:10-"For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities. For when I am weak, I am strong"