poignant

Both of us grew up with one parent whose unconditional love wasn’t enough to shield us from the damage of their narcissistic partners. And as a result, we grew around the shadows they gave us, walking around like open wounds looking for any excuse to turn a spark into a flame.

Those people wanted God to touch them so badly that they thought he actually had. I didn’t believe Jesus and his angels watched us from heaven. If he did, I hated him. Think of all that power. He wouldn’t even drop in to fix Mama’s back, bent up and hurting from a dozen years of plucking chickens. He let people die, and hurt little kids, and do all