“While I Lived in Hell”
They were saving souls.
Pulling people from the fire,
Preaching grace and salvation
To anyone who would listen.
And while they did?
I burned.
They trusted the wrong people.
People called by Jesus,
Charged with protecting children
Who needed more than scripture.
Stranger danger didn’t apply
When the danger
Knew all the right words.
When the danger
Wore a cross around its neck
And spoke of love
While hands did unspeakable things.
I was a “troublemaker.”
That’s what they saw.
Angry.
Unruly.
Acting out.
They didn’t see
A child fighting battles
That no one else could see.
They didn’t see
That every outburst,
Every broken rule,
Was a scream
No one wanted to hear.
I fought.
I fought bullies.
I fought the fear.
I fought the ache in my own skin—
Sharpie in hand,
Trying to erase the parts of me
That made me a target.
And when that wasn’t enough?
I carried a knife.
I don’t remember it.
But I know it happened.
Because by then,
What choice did I have?
They saw the knife.
They saw the violence.
And instead of asking why,
They sent me away.
Kicked out.
Gone.
Saved me
Without even knowing it.
And I believed it was my fault.
For so long.
I carried that weight,
Thinking I was the problem.
But I know now.
It wasn’t my fault.
They made their choices.
They’re responsible.
Not me.
And that truth?
That truth sets me free.