Blue Midnight
Calloused Prayers

Blue Midnight hurts; my soul is regurgitating pain from those before me and those with me now in the shadows of darkness. I am silent yet my mind replays the choices, the sickness and the fear of never having a window that will open and allow me to breathe peacefully.
Suffering has no boundaries, it seeps in through every crevasse of one’s inner room. From the corner where I weep I see from the doorway above reminders of lost loved ones and those still here who are waking in fear as they battle the demons of mortality. Disease, dictators, disasters. At this hour humanity is on it’s knees, begging mercifully to some entity they are half doubting or humbled into believing in as a last resort.
Calloused knees from years of prayer, hands pressing palm to palm, grief calling in infinite screams. In the cellar of my heart I pull my knees up to my chest and count the steps it takes to find understanding and empathy within my relations with other dwellers in this existential well of echoed despair.
Blue is brilliant when paired with gold and the moon dances across the ceiling as I lay in my pool of doubt and motherly concern for my inner child who sees clearly those who have trespassed her. The night is so long and sleep never comes easy. In a wavering state between rest and wakefulness the “gone wrongs” of each day plague each cell of my body; my attempts to help pull a special loved one’s self esteem up and to show them there can be a day with goodness was thwarted once again.
To lay in worry with the black and blue bruises of a beaten slave is my midnight. Oh, you damned mystery of all mankind, do you even hear me? Do you see how much suffering my loved one is enduring? How can you allow this? I have bargained and have even been willing to pay whatever penance you crave just to see my only child find revelation and self love.
Are you abandoning her or me? Are you worthy of my sleepless nights full of fear? I wake each day to hope like a broken clock. Both hands are on twelve and I know not if it is night or noon; my heart is too heavy to pull another through this life. I carry the weight of my deeply broken daughter, my deeply broken self and I try to show the beauty that could be for her without success. I feel the swell of my own past, my haunted and branded scars of before and want there to be a magical spirit to protect my child from this world of contradictions and horrors.
I lay down and feel my baby’s heartbeat still and I beckon the universal dream of “LOVE” to envelope her and guide her to stand up and fight for her dreams. I call with my weak, strained voice for you to answer, please.
About the Creator
ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)
~ American feminist living in Sweden ~ SHE/HER
Admin. Vocal Social Society
Find me: @andreapolla63.bsky.social
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
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Comments (31)
Deep thoughts echoing the ages. We all go there from time to time.
wow nice
I read this as a beautiful monologue the words themselves were the face of desperate cries. This was wonderful
The story invoked strong personal emotions Good https://appsgb.pk/
I feel that pain every time I watch my adult children try to change their lives into something more positive every time they get hurt. I feel and hear the emotion in your words, though I believe emotion can be charged into positive power when we use it correctly.
Wow! So powerful and relateable! Thank you for sharing!❤️😢🫂
So eloquent, I am in awe! No wonder this got Top Story!
😮 👏👏👏 You know the mind is in a place when it can express such deep thoughts so fluently and eloquently. I felt this one in my core and it read so easily in its painful revelation. Remarkable work, ROCK! Congrats!
Uttering entrancing, gorgeous and gut wrenching piece
This was so excellent. I really enjoyed the lines about the broken clock and not knowing if it was midday or midnight. So clever. And a great top story too.
This breaks my heart. The raw emotion portrayed is just outstanding. I don't know what else to say. Excellent, excellent works. 👏
This was one of the most powerful pieces I've ever read. "To lay in worry with the black and blue bruises of a beaten slave is my midnight," is an absolute gut-punch of a line and beautiful to boot. You've done something amazing with these words, congrats on the well-deserved Top Story!
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Holy smokes, Rock! This was the prayerful pleading of a bleeding heart. Powerful and gut-wrenching! Some magnificent writing, Rock.
Congratulations! Well deserved for this piece
This is what too stories are made of ❤️❤️
Oh my goodness. You just made me cry!!! What a wonderfully heartfelt and open piece! ❤️❤️❤️
Wow, I hope you do get an answer. Not very often do you read something and get a scene played out in your head of exactly what is happening in writing. You completely broke the secret code of what writing is all about and I think for this reason, you will get an answer and your daughter will get the revelation and she will find self love. Well done, and hats off to you.
Rock, this is so poetically written and beautifully executed!! Congrats on Top Story!!
Loved your line, "The night is so long and sleep never comes easy. In a wavering state..." Brilliantly penned!!!
Incredible work
This is so haunting and so spiritually beautiful. Congratulations on the top story!
I have no words. This is incredible and very touching. You are an amazing writer! ❤️
What a dark night of the soul... one that expresses the concern that I expect many have witnessed once in a blue moon. Facing Reality takes great hope and strength and self love and forgiveness - not being the perfect image of an ideal and. knowing the death sentence is inevitable makes it challenging to feel through calloused prayers. I say use callous remover
I just feel...so tired.