You can’t see them but you may notice their effect.

Those blisters are what make me see only clouds on a sunny day.

Blisters make me critical of the people I meet, though they may never hear it.

My cup seems empty when in fact it is rather full.

I complain about stupid things.

I hold onto grudges and rather than forgive.

I have anger that is gently peculating just below the surface.

These blisters seem to trouble my hearing. I hear in a distorted manner. I assume what was never said and it is not positive.

My joy is short lived and hope eludes me. People don’t seek me out and I find I am alone.

I desperately need to find healing for these blisters but there is no salve or prescription available.

I need someone who can reach into my heart and heal these things. They are stealing away my life.

I am tired of them.