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Liz Humphrey Jan 2018
catching breath
with sudden skin  
hands pull in
never close enough
with lips unclosed
not unclothed
we shouldn't
but we could
oh how we would
and why?
for who we were
see that foggy window
long gone now
where behind
our shut eyes
we warm belied
the leather cold
A sweet, chilly memory from a time before
Liz Humphrey Jan 2018
I've kidnapped them
or so it seems
and so they scream
and scratch me
draw blood clawing
sheets and gowns
with desire to get out
to home not knowing where that is
couldn't make it if they did
bodies sick as minds
I bind them softly to beds
soothe them with meds
I've got to send them off
to dream inside
what's left inside
a place where they can let me doctor
this choice I make to get them better
while they are non-the-wiser
Is it wrong to put them under
am I white coated cruelty
or duty owed Hippocrates
taking those who know not what they do
and to them do onto.
What does it mean to do no harm to the patients who can't understand what you're doing?
Liz Humphrey Jan 2018
Oh the things I let you do
made a god of you
giving and you take
not awake to the ways
I made me weak
knelt willingly
as you kissed me
a parody of grace
a sinner afraid
ashamed of her crimes
the worst of mine being
first a thirst for freedom
this independence
quench it
second imperfections
unchecked boxes and missed directions
submit for corrections
third pleas for gentle words
shut up that never works
with women like you
thus you loved
me not brave enough
or knowing how to love
myself until the day I could
I stood and ran
you will not see me again
Sequel to "I'm Leaving You." One year later.
Liz Humphrey Jun 2017
smoke break one when I walk in at 8
though it could be two already today  
as I don't know when she got here
only that she disappears
at 8 and then 11 to see her through
to late afternoon
when she'll leave and be returning
empty packed as I’m packing up,
and she hides it so well
her fingers aren't yellowed and the smell
only faint on her breath if you’re real close
it's not even on her clothes
scented the way some say
a woman should of flowers
I want to whisper in her ear
that whatever leads her
over again outside that door cannot
hurt more than the loss of laughs
to gasps for air and coughs
don't take your breath away  
let me take it instead.
A mixture of thoughts from the perspective of a person who loves my coworker.
Liz Humphrey Feb 2017
You start talking about suffering,
beaten and broken, you’ll horribly die,
then after three days you’ll rise to life,
you plainly state such crazy things,
so I take you aside to tell you, no,
you’ll be King, show your power
rule the earth,
crush oppressors into the dirt,

then like I’ve never seen, you roar,
the anger of the righteous Lord
the priests teach about, comes out
you yell, Behind me, Satan,
you won’t ruin my plans,
your mind is filled with thoughts of man,
not God,
I’m silent with shame,
confused, you’re calling me the name
of your enemy while I’m trying
to remind you what you promised me.
Continuing Lenten journey with Peter (From 2016)
Liz Humphrey Jan 2017
You called my heart a target
when I said your words were arrows
you wouldn’t slow
your shouting
you mocked me
made me part of your clichéd love song
poor you with bad girl gone wrong
you wronged by me somehow
could you not see that I was cowering
before this anger I didn’t understand
your demands
for a woman who’s x and not y
I tried
but could never succeed
Your rap sheet for me
was a 6 foot hole in the ground
getting deeper down
each rule I broke symptoms of sickness
cured by submission
you said to this pit you made
in a life
as your wife
with your name behind Mrs.
keeping you kind with my kisses
while losing my mind
I would have died your slave
so I’m climbing out of my grave
no need to shout as I go
your words are arrows
my heart is the target you’re missing.
This is what emotional abuse looks like.
Liz Humphrey May 2016
You ask me one day, who do they say,
I am, what names are whispered when I pass,

some say you’re a prophet from the past,
and often others claim you’re John the Baptist
whose head Herod took, now alive again
making way for the Messiah to reign,

You follow with another question,
but who am to you, my friend,
I answer, not prophet, not John,
but the Son of the living God,
sudden joy on Your face, intense,
you proclaim to me, Peter, you’re a blessed
man, for my Father has shown you what
flesh and blood cannot, so on you, this rock,
I will build a church that hell’s assault will not
defeat, you’ll hold the keys to my Kingdom’s gates,
power to bind and loose all on heaven and earth
in my name,
in the moment, I am
amazed, mind racing, unbelieving you would
hand me, a fisherman from Galilee, the right
to reign at your side but at the same time,
knowing you’d never lie to me, for I
believe you’re all you say and more,
my Savior Christ, the coming Lord.
Part Six in my Lenten journey with Peter
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