Non rhyming communication, distance, honesty, institutions, intimacy, relationships, self, solitude 10:38 pm
It’s a happy madness.
I wish you understood
the clothes on the floor,
the books and papers and pens-
the movement.
I wish you saw how pretty
the movement
is;
the moments when
nothing matters.
I could never trust you with that,
with something
as precious as that;
of course I tried,
only to find
.every.
.time.
you marked it wrong,
told me so
and grabbed me to come along.
But I’m happy
in the madness, the movement
I am happy
in,
on,
my own
Non rhyming communication, determination, fantasy, fear, honesty, letting go, living, longing, purpose, relationships, self, solitude, writing 3:49 pm
if i could bury myself in this, i would. i would suffocate myself with this. i would place it over my mouth, my nose, my eyes. i
would just let it be the last thing i breathe, the last thing i see, the last thing i think. i
would leave it
just like that. so i would never have to wake up without it one more day. so i
would never
have to look at it from a distance, from an unimaginable distance. i
wouldn’t have to
yell into the void between, the place where my voice never reaches, my words
never matter enough.
i wouldn’t question again why i stand on the fringe of it all, why i
assume
my bridges are too shaky, or my roots too heavy, my intensity too much or
of course, not enough, whatever the argument may be. or that i
am too much or
too little
never again a concern because,entombed in this, i couldn’t be
anything else
but the one who carried this so close it took over and
took my place, couraged me enough to
let go and just
be this
and nothing else, since
i
never really was the rest. i never really was anything else anyway.
Rhyming aftermath, broken, childhood, consequence, coping, family, grief, honesty, letting go, life, longing, parenthood, relationships, self, solitude, strength 7:27 am
Can I just say,
it was unfair
to let me be
such a small adult.
love was not enough
to show me the ropes
A child’s decisions
should be questioned.
Didn’t anyone see
the child in me?
Didn’t anyone
lack enough belief?
It was obligation,
everything I did
It was preservation,
everything I hid
It was fear,
every time I ran
It was grasping
to understand
everything you couldn’t tell me
while you were so consumed
You didn’t see the child in me,
but I saw the one in you.
And I knew if I lost it,
if I let go
there’d be no one to come and get me
no one would know
what to say
and no one would realize
till much too late.
Rhyming self, beauty, purpose, life, faith, solitude, consequence, strength, open, perspective, distance, living, letting go, choice 7:23 am
I’ve always loved the recklessness
the road warned against
supplies
the breath of life
comes from choosing feeling
the road suggested
comes stealing conviction,
suffocating belief,
handing out grief,
it will work a spirit till it’s weak
and considers falling in line
happens all the time
to even the most headstrong
poison in the heart
making it all seem wrong
making what’s not
look so good
making what is
look like something no one would
hold on to
And the choosers forget why they choose what they choose
and don’t know what is true
or what to do
clarity comes
in so many forms
looks like perseverance pays-
seeking the soul of things
till
the chooser gets back the reigns
and can see
what it feels like
to have been right
from the first step
of recklessness
the gritty sweet
of life’s breath.
Non rhyming aftermath, anger, broken, consequence, letting go, sadness, self 4:39 pm
You stand, stripped, looking at the mirror
your lack of reflection proves your disappearance
you are a million things,
and nothing
everything you took off
is now wrapped around your ankles,
tight-
like shackles
you can’t put anything back, nothing fits anymore
You wait for someone to take you,
but there’s nothing left to take.
You move, slowly, weighted,
towards sleep
but you don’t even know which way to go
your compass broke
You have no convictions-
sounds like a death sentence.
faith drips from your skin,
making puddles beside love-belief
it will all evaporate
like trust
disappointment had you purge enough
to be rid of hope
and reconciliation
You search for something,
words-
that mean nothing and change nothing
you try them,
taste them,
throw them out.
The depths of you are vacant now, aren’t they?
It’s dangerous, not to mention unattractive
to stand the way you do,
waiting
spilled open
aimless
I have nothing left to say to you.
Rhyming aftermath, anger, broken, change, coping, determination, grief, life, purpose, self, strength 4:30 pm
Bring the fighter back,
You’ve been under attack for too long.
Letting go-
you let too much get gone.
Sometimes you wonder just where it went wrong.
You look in the mirror
and all you see
is who you used to be,
want to be,
will never be.
You can’t get free of the things
that keep breaking you down -
the things you let tear you right to the ground
Well,
Stop.
Bring the fighter back.
You’ve it all go slack.
You need to stop letting things kick your ass,
And start kicking back.
You feel lost,
At a loss,
Never enough,
Like giving up
Bring the fighter back.
You’re back and forth,
You’re up and down,
On and off the right track,
Never feeling found,
Where you stand never seeming sound.
You’re buried.
And wanting.
Stop mourning.
Start pushing.
Because the battles we fight on the inside
are the ones that effect our day-to-day lives.
Find a way to put your vices down.
It’s time to GET UP
And stop sitting around.
Find the things you’re missing.
Be done with envy and wishing.
Stop whispering excuses,
And screaming out blame.
Bring the fighter back,
And get back in the game.
Rhyming consequence, fear, letting go, longing, love, relationships, self, strength 4:27 pm
You try to look past
all the things he’ll say
that always end up
making you feel this way.
But you know inside
it’s kinda wrong
until you hear his favorite song
and go back to when
you felt so loved
and you just don’t want to be
the one to give up.
In your mind, you rationalize
the things he does
and convince yourself
that your love is enough.
You look at him
and see the man
you’re sure he is deep down.
You’re sure if you just stick around,
that man will come out.
But the boy he is now
is always tearing you down
then picking you up
and dragging you around.
You say “Maybe it’s not his fault.”
You’re heart sinks to the floor
as you realize you’re caught.
He calls the shots,
He makes the rules,
He picks you apart,
He knows what to do
to keep you
just broken enough
that you never get your strength back up.
So much of who you’ve become
has been you wanting to be his “one”
And you’re scared to death
that if you lose him, you’ll lose yourself
And you’ll never find you again
or anyone else.
But that’s not true.
When do you say ” I’ve done all I could”
and step out on a limb and do what you should?
When do you decide
this version of love is wrong?
When can you not think of him
when you hear those songs?
When do you feel that you’ll be okay
that a day without him is not a wasted day?
When do you realize this is less
than you will accept?
When do you break free
and take that step?
You give and you give,
When do you give it up
and let go
of the love
that keeps you so torn up?
Rhyming beauty, belief, determination, faith, honesty, intimacy, living, love, prayer, relationships, self, spirituality 11:56 pm
I’ve got a pilgrim heart
it gravitates
to caverns
and mountains.
Move
spirit
move.
I seek You
in every place
I ever go,
In every face.
Faith and love and light and rest
coincide with
darkness and
dirty hands.
Deliver,
design,
guide,
my heart’s travels.
Keep me close
and in the perils,
substantiate
every thing.
I dive in
to lakes
and graves
seeking every permutation
of beauty,
every version
of love and faith.
You are every where,
I am set on
finding You there.
Rhyming belief, determination, faith, living, purpose, self, spirituality, strength 11:21 pm
I jump into fires
and lion’s dens.
I run up to giants,
sling my stones
and kick their shins.
My armor is well used,
molded in battle.
Every time I come out
a slightly different warrior,
but a warrior all the same.
Sometimes
I’m in the belly of the whale
but I still end up right where
I am
right when
right in
the design.
I have this independent spirit, this pilgrim heart.
I won’t do just because someone told me to.
I will seek – I won’t be told my truths.
I’m this fighter for faith
I’m not satisfied standing by.
I’m not willing to stop.
I breathe only because I believe.
I have these words, these lover’s hands
I speak the mercy I know, what I’ve been shown.
I touch wounds easy,
I know I’m no healer-
but love can be.
I am this spirited, lover -fighter -pilgrim- child.
I am shaped, designed, and carefully wired
just as I am
by this Master Artist’s hands.
There is nothing new under the sun
I’m not the first that stood to fight,
sought the truth,
refused to run.
I’m not the first that begged for yes or no-
that walked for years unsure of where or how to go.
I’m not the first to doubt, or the first to serve,
the first that didn’t listen or crafted pretty words.
I am in the company of sinners and saints, all the same;
all magnificently capable and incredibly lame.
