Pouring it out

"When it rains, it pours,"
she said
if only she knew
the transfer in my head
and pouring of my heart
as it falls onto the floor

what for? I ask
not because it is not great
or enough
but because it hurts
because each drop
is like a ripping
of a leg hair
long grown in
but ghastly and gross

but Lord, as I sit here
and sketch out the reasons
I see past seasons
where you have shown such love
when I have looked above
and beyond
looking back I am so fond
of these times
but seeing the pain in the rhymes
I wrote
hmmm.. I should be singing a different note
of thankfulness
to be here
and that He is near
and that no matter what happens
it is supposed to be

but God, what is tangled up in me?
please stretch it out
lay it flat
and show me
what is "that"

amen.