The things that make me strong

I'm sitting listening to the thunder In this house that is slowly shedding ghosts and becoming mine. No longer 'ours' but mine Tears bring the exorcist but I am afraid They will wash away the memories. These memories can no longer hold me Touch my hand and keep me warm 'The wind beneath my wings' is gone. I remember mother telling me I wouldn't melt When I was little I came to believe her Now I think she's wrong. The rain and tears are washing from me the things that make me strong.   This poem is written by a women on the forum that I post on.  I found it touching.  I can recall not too long ago, sitting in despair.  I had the same thoughts,,,,but God.   Prayer:  I pray the long night doesn't weaken you, but make you strong.