...

If you only see the world as perfect, good and beautiful, I would say you are ignorant of the suffering, injustice and evil that runs recklessly throughout this earth and within every human heart. If you only see the world as broken, bad and ugly, I would say you are blind to the beauty, hope and peace that lingers patiently among us, offering redemption to every human heart.

take.

You know my night's desires just as you know my daylight dreams. You've seen my passions raging forth into scenes of cages and empty things. I press the depths of holy and hollow; I long for more from both. But never giving me to either side, I've walked on, seeing and knowing nothing past my own two eyes. Still feeling everything, as always, as everything moved on around me. Oh, to trust—what a gift from God! Oh, to lust—such a forfeit of love. Yet the dark seems safe, and I would choose it on my own, but hope holds back my wandering heart. Hope keeps calling me to you. And I remember my soul is not my own. I remember it's no longer my weight to bear. So I take up the life you've brought to me. I take heart in things not in this world. I take courage in the truth. And I take you at your word.

a thought or two.

Things that linger: regrets and dreams. Well let's leave the past where it's at and breathe on. Say so long to the hindrances and chain link fences that keep us wishing things were different. We are moving along. We are going beyond all logic and feeling. We have been set free for freedom, so let us live intentionally, passionately, and selflessly. Ready? Let's go.

Understanding.

Though we mess up, we are not mistakes. We are not the choices that we make. In our pain or loneliness, we are never left alone. And despite how much we learn and grow, we are never fully grown. We are not our past, carved in stone. We are a blade of grass, soon dried up and gone. We are so temporary, yet we are the contrary. We are flesh and soul, fully known. We are muscle and bone. We are not our own.

i, the wind.

you are
still standing there. in the second story, and
not without warning the window breaks and
clinging to your skin, the glass stings and
brings blood to the surface. now you're
rough
wet
and red.

(that pane was too thick, too strong,
you thought so hard on this and so long. and so sure
you were—you'd never have to give in to the wind outside.
trees bending, but not you.
no need to fend, your heart said
as your feet stayed pressed so close to that sill.)

but you were
there standing still.
you gave warning to storms, so big
you thought
you were. until
in came a wave of water and dirt and
your shame, your arrogance filled your lungs. overcome,
your body was being swept away, and then

you felt me,
blowing in through the window. so slow,
it seemed. reaching inside, i took everything
and emptied you
of every drop of dirty water you had swallowed
while trying to breathe.
we both paused and your heart stopped
as you realized you had nothing.
and fear of loss came with a gasp and a cough, and then
i filled you again. but this time
with life that would last.

as your eyes open and you take a deep breath,
you are lying near the window,
which was your death, so you thought,
but why then now
are you alive? your mind knows it was just a dream.
but your heart seems sure that it was all a memory.

goodnight, drama.

i will leave you now so i can dream and breathe in my own world of wants. subconscious can be dangerous, releasing fears, flaws, chaos, lust. where lies and tigers roam around—why is their silence so loud?! everything moves slower. every thought or memory so eloquently rolls together. i realize dreams are momentary; length and depth indeed may vary. but alas, i need a break... from real life's consequences and mistakes. tomorrow is new and it's where i'll be when my sleep is woken out of me.

no more middle.

I choose the hard way, the right way. I'm done with indecisive. I'm over being comfortable. I'm through with living in fear of letting people down. The weight is too much, it's unnecessary. The point of my life is to live, to feel, to be, to grow. So that is what I'll do. Keep moving forward though I may not always be certain I am right. I'm giving up my self-dependence and giving in to grace. Here goes everything...

To Have & To Hold.

Commitment—I run from it. I try to come to the conclusion that investing just isn't worth it. Betrayed by myself and the occasional friend... time and time again, which should be proof enough for me to want to unstick my heart from every sad situation—past, present, future—and take myself out of the equation of pain, disappointment and failure. No risk, no loss. Right?

But then there's you. This invisible, beautiful being of conviction that I can't help but listen to and long to follow. But following through with anything is, for me, a door jammed shut. I've tried the key, but it's no use. I've tried hitting and pushing and kicking the door, but still: no success. It's like there's super glue holding it closed, and opening the door with my own strength just isn't working. Perhaps burning the door down would work? Or chopping through it with an ax? No—I can't do that. I wouldn't want to destroy it; I want to be able to shut the door again if I don't like what's on the other side.


Destroy it.

No. Did you not hear me? I can't destroy the door.

It's all or nothing. Commit to me, give me all of you... or turn around and walk away.

But, but... how do I... know I can trust you? I don't want to trust in something that will just let me down in the end. Been there, done that.

Have I ever let you down?

Well... no, not you personally. But there's a first time for everything, and... and the risk of giving everything I have to you is just too great. I'll look like a absolute fool if you turn out to not be who you say you are.

You're right, the risk is great. But is not trusting me worth the risk of never being free? Of never being fully satisfied or finding peace? Of feeling lost and alone and unsure all the days of your life? Is that really the way you desire to live?

Well when you put it that way, I guess following you does sound like a better option.

Destroy the door. Come, follow me.

But I don't know if I can commit to committing to you! I can't do it. I can't.

Don't you remember? Years ago you committed to following me, trusting me, loving me. Why do you doubt now?

I know. I remember. But that was a long time ago and I just... I don't know. Things change.

Have I changed?

No, you haven't. You've always been there for me. You just don't seem like enough anymore.

I've given you everything I have—I gave up my life so you would never have to be alone again. Why am I still not enough for you? What more could you possibly want that is better than what you've already been given?

I... I... I don't know.

I am yours, beloved. You have my life and you hold my love in your heart. Choose me, for I have already chosen to be with you.

I do want to choose you, but this door—I just can't open it!

Destroy it.

I can't.

Destroy it.
Come, trust me. Follow me.

just a thought.

the human heart: such a gift, such a weapon, so prone to love. such a vulnerable muscle so quickly broken, so easily stolen, yet hardly spoken of.

tangentry.

what a sideways way of life we live. we give to others only to take on more glory for ourselves—how foolish this is! our wealth will only lead us to poverty. and the probability of happiness is low. oh, what is the fate of our souls? only God knows. you don't need eyes to see how much we throw away with every breath, every step we take. we celebrate when we're high, and discriminate when we're sinking down. round and round we go. elevating our beliefs above what we believe in. nothing is more harmful than a hardened heart. but what if we leave in the past all the things that have been carved into us? if we are trees, let us grow. we all have shadows that seem like fetters, but there is a better side of life, for we are set free when we identify with the light. wrong or right, love is love. and no one judges a brother for reaching out. just watch out that we're not reaching down out of guilt or pride, for our good deeds shall wilt as we will stand wide-eyed, wondering how it came to be that we lost everything. oh, oh, oh where have i gone but on another tangent. i haven't any idea of the point i'm trying to make. but this isn't a beauty pageant, and i'm not here to be fake or liked. just trying to sort out the ins and outs of me—all the truths and the fibs i've come to see and well, i can't go on and on all night, so i'll leave it at this:
it is a sideways way of life we live.

rethinking inspiration.

and perhaps, inspiration does not flourish from detailed visions or vivid dreams that have been carefully planned out. Perhaps, inspiration comes from the sudden spark of excitement that ignites the soul when a reflection of something uncertain, yet magnificent, is seen as a possibility.

discontinuum.

a little found, a little lost;
i go a little ways, then stop.
looking back looks so good, feels so good.
but oh, how i miss the memories
and wish the melodies could carry away the sadness that comes
when i realize those days
were some of the best rays of sunshine
lighting up my life.
all those nights of laughing, talking, fighting, walking, driving, smiling.
come back, old times,
let me relive you.
let me give you a second chance,
then maybe you wouldn't go by so fast.
regrets? i do not have many.
i just hate how empty i feel when my past is no longer my reality,
even though it was real.
reality is here and now.
it's so hard to embrace it,
but i have to face it somehow.
looking back on all the beauty of the past—
it's so easy to get lost, but alas,
what's ahead is beckoning me;
and i'm reckoning the cost of letting go.
opening my hands, and giving up what is gone.
finally
extinguishing
what i've kept aglow for so,
so long.

win & lose.

if you want win, you have to be willing to risk. and you can't risk unless you're willing to lose, knowing that in the end, even though you may indeed suffer loss, whatever is gained far outweighs whatever it is that could be lost along the way.

night

the night's falling out of the sky right in front of my eyes—i hate goodbyes, you know this. we can't live together and stay alive, i know this. green light means go, but where do i go? i'm lost without you leading the way. i'm fake and empty and bleeding gray. no color left inside me when i leave your side. the lies in my lungs are replacing the oxygen, again i don't move 'cause i'm scared to. i pray for safety even though you've saved me. oh, what do i do with a reckless mind. all i can do is stare up at the sky falling into the night right above me.

big.

a little hurt, a little scared. a little angry, a little unprepared. a little sad, a little shy. a little bold, a little high. a little empty, a little naive. a little happy, a little relieved. a little dirty, a little cold. a little tired, a little old. so many little things in me, yet so, so big the Lord will always be.

fight

i put up a fight—kicked, screamed and cried. my heart threw up words as my tongue came untied. the blame wasn't mine, so i didn't dare claim it. love came with a price; was this just a payment? my eyes fluttered round and round in vain as if they were butterflies—confused and caged. i grew tired of talking and sick of your silence. so i left, walking out with fists full of defiance.

temple.

pointed fingers, all accusing.
pain that lingers, starts abusing.
i'm the center, i'm at fault.
this isn't what i wanted at all.

i thought the right was what i did,
but surprise, surprise,
i was misled.
oh the days that led to years,
which ended in a married mess.
and now i wish i'd listened to
the fears inside my chest.

maybe all i'm afraid of is me—
a temple full of judges judging me.
All the while, everyone is happy
because I'm happy.
and that's all everyone ever wanted, right?
so there's no need to fight these inward feelings
of wanting to be something with someone someday.
but for now, i'll close my eyes and simply say
goodnight.

this i know.

Sometimes, the most restoring moments of forgiveness are the ones in which the words "I'm sorry" aren't even said.


A terrified breath left my lungs while my tongue went up and down, hitting the roof of my mouth, and the hours and hours of spinning thoughts came spitting out.


"I hate who I am

when I'm without you.

I hate that I walked away

from you.

I hate that I hated

you.

Because

I don't know who I am

when I'm without you.

I don't have any place to go

where I don't see you.

And I don't know what love is

without you."

__________________________________________

Sometimes the most significant moments of acceptance are the ones in which the words "I love you" aren't even said.


A final breath left your lungs as you were hung up and nailed down, bleeding from hands, feet, head, and mouth, and the hours and hours of heartbreaking beatings came teeming out.

Oh, how you suffered and hurt

for me.

Oh, your heart, how it burns

for me.

Oh, how you died and rose

for me.

Oh, your love, how it flows

for me.

And

Oh, how I'll suffer and hurt

for you.

Oh, my heart, how it burns

for you.

Oh, how I'll die and rise

for you.

Oh, my love, how it grows

for you.

Oh, how I'm forgiven and
oh, how I'm loved

because of you.

one hundred [+ eleven] words.

influenced.
shy.
dark.
intimidate.
blessing.
valor.
candid.
uplifted.
hell.
sunrise.
monday.
six.
rattle.
vagabond.
twisted.
was.
timber.
polluted.
advertise.
beseech.
allowed.
louder.
fun.
grotesque.
exquisite.
monkey.
love.
sundress.
bald.
shampoo.
undiscovered.
hard.
split.
vitality.
kickboxing.
armstrong.
satellite.
come.
yawn.
fellow.
negativity.
shun.
ultimate.
numbers.
figure.
watch.
baptize.
intricate.
stub.
zap.
splinter.
reproduce.
skeptical.
interesting.
believe.
lizard.
ballet.
thunder.
thick.
walrus.
quicksand.
indigo.
telephone.
end.
crape.
escaped.
hideaway.
underneath.
lamppost.
hey.
vibe.
moose.
sherlock.
prose.
quaint.
blue.
lick.
rerun.
illicit.
fatal.
wicked.
obscure.
final.
shutter.
gone.
sounded.
winery.
battle.
heart.
known.
proposition.
loyal.
fatigue.
hung.
dread.
jump.
flying.
one.
two.
three.
memorize.
freezing.
lay.
stop.
umbrella.
noise.
television.
thrown.
messy.
remember.
just.

our lives are lace

made of looping, twisting thread,
we are knitted patterns
carefully planned.
the details rarely seen
are created all by hand.

oh, what is this.

so intense, these fences in my head. keeping thoughts unwanted in and keeping out what i've been missing. oh, how the chain link wraps around the parking lot, the tired ground. neon signs illuminating that there are no vacant rooms remaining in this Motel 6 of a brain. all my theories, feelings, views are reruns in the news, and i can't seem to change the channel. i've lost the remote, so these notions keep on going, rolling round and round. my dreams go up and down, in and out of memories. of felonies commited against my life, which is still yours by the way. which way, which way is there to go? no direction makes sense when all i want is fun. if only i could have one: fun or fair. either is better than what i've chosen, this lonesome lie that i'm doing just fine on my own. you don't own me, i've been told. yet you bought me, i know. but anyway, i'll leave it here, my mess of words for all to hear and i—i think i'm going to jump over the chain link fence now, and escape this place that i've come to somehow.

color & life

a flash of color,
a new life starts.
my heart moves fast now
underneath the stars
as i sit here wondering
how this came to be
and how you're changing me.
crazy to think how blind i once was,
crazy to know now your life is enough,
enough to keep me breathing deeply in and softly out.
my doubts of you are gone and i think i'm quite ready now.
ready to jump off this cliff of fear and face your truth.
im ready to be free of these chains i hold on to.
here i go
into life,
into colors bright.

in & out

you've come in and turned out to be the one who's teaching me how to learn. oh, how truth burns. and oh, how it hurts. some might say I deserve much worse than this; some might say I deserve forgiveness. but you—you say I am chosen and I am loved, not because of what I have or haven't done, but because I am yours.

you've rushed in and cast out the darkness I once thought was light. oh, what truth reveals. and oh, how it heals. some might say I've lost the race; some might say I've earned my place. but you—you say I am standing here in your grace, not because of who I can or cannot be, but because I am yours.

a said mess.

When heart breaks turn in to headaches
and the "learning how to cope" becomes, well...
somewhat of a joke, I must say how funny it is
that we hopelessly give reason upon reason
for maintaining a smile,
which feels more like treason than honesty.
but honestly, why must we keep on saying
"I'm fine" and insisting on dignifying our pride?
when all the while the aching, throbbing mess
of what's deep in our chests is kept buried
like treasure so no one can see
that we are beautiful even if we're broken
and have no idea how to open up our hearts
to be healed and redeemed.
We long to feel loved, to be free...
so let's take the risk of losing our stilts
for the chance to fall into the abyss of truth
where hopes are revived and peace is restored.
Oh, what more could we want
than to know we are loved
not because of obligation or chore, but simply
because we are wanted and chosen.
And there is no good deed, nor bad thought
that could ever tear or rot that love—
that wood-bearing love that carries me.

What I Am.

I'm a thinker who feels that thinking is sometimes overrated; and one who always has to rethink what I'm feeling about my thoughts. I'm a dreamer who knows that the best dreams often come when I'm wide awake. I'm a lover who hates the broken cycle of love, yet cannot deny the reality of love—it's a mess, and we're bound to fall for it, get caught up in it, be broken by and taught by it, and in the end... restored by it. I'm a follower who leads quietly, unaware that I, myself, am being followed. I'm a listener who speaks only when silence seems to be the worst option; I only wish my mouth could more easily open in harmony with my heart. I'm an artist who can't help but capture, sing, dance, and write what's within my soul; though, it's more about processing life than performing live. In the end, I'm just a girl, a human being, a someone who is inhaling and exhaling every day thus far for reasons I'm not always sure of, yet am always thankful for.

the next.

a mess of melodies—making noise
inside my ears on both sides
of my head—taking
what tomorrow might have been
and making it something new,
something different.
thoughts, a mess.
fears, a test.
yet, my hope is in the next
bright tomorrow, whether it be
a mess of battles lost, or victories.
sorrows run so often deep, the joys throughout
are what keep
me here on my knees,
so still,
yet so terribly in need
of being a mess
for future glory.

in over my head

Take this shovel from my hand and let it lie broken.
Come fill this hole before all hope is lost in
this heart that seeks pleasure in darkness, not light.
Take my hand, lead my eyes away from this place
that I've chosen to live in, yet deeply despise.

untitled

light blinding,
shadows dark.
i'm drawn to both,
both leave their mark.

two sides, two truths

I fall and fall and fall again, trying
so hard to justify the lack of light under my skin.

He came and died and rose again, denying
himself to justify my lack of life because of sin.

I'm lost and unable to save.

He finds me and my soul awakes.

I'm far from brave.

He gives me grace.

I am in need and weak.
And without his mercy, I'll self-destruct.
I'll break, and lust will overtake my cross-given freedom.

I am satisfied in him when my weakness is known.
His mercy takes away the wreckage that once owned me.
I break, but lust loses flame to burn my blood-stained freedom.

[now i know]

i'm caught in the midst of this beautiful evil
that captivates, yet pains me. its hands stretch out
as if to comfort, but reaching towards it now i feel

no air
left in
my lungs.

why has my heart begun to fold

into
a new and
crude routine?

i'm lost in the midst of this blinding upheaval
that leads, yet undermines me. its words come out
as if to help, but listening closely now i know

the truth
does not
deceive.

my dark heart soon will see and go

into
a new and
truer light.

can't have both

wanting thoughts that aren't so gray,
needing more than wanting to you.

tempted, intrigued,
immersed in youth and blame.
i don't trust you. i don't trust him.
i can't feel him like i feel you.

but restoration isn't yours.
and you don't know my soul.
he, however, will win this war. and i,
though growing more uncertain,
somehow know i'm in his hands.

both i want, both will break me.
neither one i trust completely.

one must fall, and one must reign. yet
any light remaining within is wavering.

back and forth, back and forth
i've gone and keep on going,
knowing what i want is complicating
everything i thought i knew.

emotions slowly overtake my sight of him;
past devotion overwhelms my desire for you.

holy hill

down this holy hill you roll
faster, faster as you go
you don’t know why you’re falling from the Lord.
all this fighting seems in vain
even praying is a game
you don’t know why you’re hiding from the Lord.

through this valley you are walking
talking about how you love the darkness
you don’t want to return to the Lord.
into longings so unsure, you
chase after heart break and pleasure
you just can’t see your need for the Lord.

on that holy hill you stood
crying, crying at the foot
of the one who gives life and restores.
now you spit upon his face
rejecting love, mercy and grace
you are screaming “crucify the Lord!”

going back up to the cross
you will understand the cost
the Lord will rejoice when you come back home.
but even as you stand here in
your pain and pride and ignorance
he still loves you and calls you to his throne.
he still wants you and will bring you home.

what have we

the things that bring us to our knees are the unraveling mysteries—the unsolved realities—that are whispered so softly in our ears, revealing the unexpected truths we fear with every fiber of what we've become. What have we become in this age of wrongs, when rights are protesting the ongoing evil by screaming love in the faces of the deceived and deceivers. We ignore verity and rarely comprehend the hand of our Lord.

moored

I want to be moored to something more than what's set here before my eyes. and never walk away from what makes that something so glorified. and I'll be changed inside and out—saved from the horrors of this world and unspoken doubts that only rebuild what was meant to be broken.

anew

I need a new song to sing,
a brighter fire to feed.

a new place, a different pace, a better way.

to know.

I need a promise, a whole heart, a beat, a new start.
no paper and pen, no lens, just me. here,
rending what I've been told,
surrendering the yesterdays
before all I see turns cold and is torn up,
taken away.

replaced.

plea.

drop the apple, let sin go.

you're saved, 

you're free, 

your fear 

is 

no 

more.

search your soul, feel your need

for grace,

for love,

for reason

to be

made

whole.

open your hands, lose control.

He's here,

you're his,

your life

is yours

no more.

fear.

sometimes

i fear people will not see in me a deep ocean, 

but instead a shallow stream. 

a stream that runs too fast 

with slippery rocks underneath,

or one that drifts slowly 

with cutting stones at the bottom.

sometimes

i fear people will not see in me a brilliant flame, 

but instead a heap of ashes.

ashes that are taken 

by the wind's every direction,

or a heap that is looked down 

at with sorrow and disgrace.

sometimes

i fear people will not see in me a grown woman, 

but instead a foolish girl.

a girl who is all too common 

with no wisdom to speak,

or one who is unstable 

and trusts only what she can see.

sometimes 

i fear these things and they long to claim my life, 

but i also fear a God who loves me.

a God whose love shines through the depths of my heart.

a God who brings my shallow sin into the light.

a God whose love ignites the ruins of my spirit.

a God who does not burn out or drift away.

a God whose love gives wisdom and restores my trust.

a God who has saved me from my fears.

This

this city is waking

me up.

car alarms can't stop

crying. dogs don't know

how to silence 

their howling.

morning fog extends

this street

as i pretend to fall

back through my reverie

where no doors shut, 

slamming out the screamed

i hate yous,

longing to linger

on dinner table nights.

and tipped-over feelings

don't stain the carpet.

and misunderstandings

turn into pillows

fighting and

this family laughing,

trying to forgive

the spilled rice and guilt.

but as hard

as i try

i cannot keep sleeping

here alone in

this bed, in 

this restless state

where people are people

who were not born

to live in dreams.

but to, instead, awaken

this place we call home.

no subtitles

scene: there are two reworded routs—

one short, one shorter.

my feet are sore, and my short breaths cannot 

carry me through these jungles of mumbled 

free-falling words.

the same words, kept and unkempt,

keep me awake at night and run 

into the walls 

in my head that's lying still. 

i toss my problems to the ground

and turn myself around because maybe,

maybe this time

I can forget they are still there.

Secondhand Guilt

Stripped of all acclaim, the day is here

waiting for time to fill its light, waiting

for us to waste it.

We are driven to work by four wheels and a desire

to somehow prove our worth.

But we don't know how. We cannot accept

ourselves and the dreamless realities we

choose to live in.

Our spoon-fed hearts are yearning.

We're fed up with mornings of caffeine and cigarettes

and imperfect people.

Our stomachs ache with insecurities.

But we continue playing the victim

and blaming our minds and bodies when we

come up short-changed.

Oh, what a day it will be when we realize the fault lies

within us. But until then, we will go on

wondering how hungry we are underneath

our need to achieve 

what has already been done.

Drifter

She is in a bottle floating above miles of deep gray.

Unkempt and unaware, her sobriety grows fake beneath her gown.

Cramped feet reach for the air outside her vessel's green neck,

but they cannot fit through the tiny hold.

A sweet betrayal of dreams and years takes its toll

as the ocean throbs with a pain only she can hear.

Unexposed, the sky whispers down a breath of regret upon her:

"Dry land was more satisfying, wasn't it?"

Her lungs fill with bitter heaviness; she envies the external world.

She kicks with distress the encircling walls and tries to inspire a crack—

a crack that would cause millions of broken pieces to immerse,

leaving her stranded with only freedom to save her.

Eyes pleading, heart searching, she finds no evidence of a shoreline.

Fatigue colors her white. She stops trying to fracture her only place of safety

and lies back down on the cool translucence. Inside is calm.

She accepts her lack of control and will go wherever she is taken.

No Destination

I put my heart in the ignition and leave nothing but tire marks behind. The wheels in my head spin by yellow lines that separate me from my past. But I blink without regard. I look past my eyes through the rearview mirror as if I don’t know I’m alone. The pavement fades into the night, and I see nothing but spots of city life tempting me, tearing me, blinding me. I start to decelerate before I go too far. However, I void my intention to exit. I accelerate. Intentions—good and bad—are paved beneath me. I add up the miles I’ve used, and with a quarter tank left, I admit truth: I’m relieved to be lost.

Late Night Poet

I am my father's daughter,

my brother's sister,

and no one's savior.

Accepting these things means surrendering myself, whoever I am. 

God, help me to break these walls down. God, break me down. 

Let your light bring me to my knees, 

and let your love carry away my desire for things of night. 

I draw near to you. 

But I dare not touch you with unclean hands. 

I reek of pride. 

You love me? God... why? 

I am a fool to question, I know. 

But is it always wiser to be silent? This I do not know. 

I've seen the past, I fear the future, and I depress the now. 

But you use my past, you know my future, and you hold me now.

Thank you.

You let me rest my anxious mind. 

I find peace in your arms; I am free. 

I'm letting you heal my reckless spirit.

Finally, I release all of me and give to you my life.

I am yours.

The Midst

Love stories are scattered all around, and without a second thought, another sound... I break. They were perfect—just like they will be perfect. There are beautiful pieces coming together, and others broken apart (but not lost). Not forgotten, waiting, moving, longing. A tragedy is taking place but does not compare to True Love's testimony and sacrifice. Questions surge and emotions run. Something absolute is here. But great contention, as well. As usual. A voice comes down and enters without warning and hearts are ignoring every bit of it. An innocent lie is wafting around the abstracted tongues, the tactless ears. "You should have known." Today is not the end of truth, nor is it the beginning. How much pride will these hands hold? And why will they not let go or even open? There is an absence of  communication here. There is, instead, an unhealthy habit of finding a way around.

a You.

i'll bleed for you, i'll die for you.

now i just need to find a you.

a someone to understand me

and to never reprimand me.

a you sounds nice to have,

and a you i know i've found.

but why then am i looking for

a better you than you?

maybe i just need to be a better me

and then i'll see the true you without pride

and my hypocrisy keeping me away from you.

i look forward to a day when i'm okay

and i obey the rules in front of me. i pray

a you will come my way for me to have and

we will stay committed. and we will never forget

that He did what the both of us could never do.

i'd love a you so very dearly, but i'll wait 'til i 

don't fear me. i will wait for strength to rise

and skies to open up and shed some light on 

where i'm going, who i am, what's important, where i stand.

enoughs been done and too much said. but i've never bled

for you, never been strong, never gone the extra mile for you,

never told you face to face that i was wrong.

there is a you that i do love; a you that's beautiful and brave. 

i think we've just tried too hard to change each other. 

and forgotten the freedom we have because of grace.

i want a you. i love a you. i want to be here for a you.

LOVE.

It's almost that time of year when we tell people we love 'em and that we'll keep in touch. kinda like warm weather. when will love be a climate that we live in, and not just a weather condition that comes and goes as seasons change? we love so passively. we've turned love into something so ordinary—something so abused. something so artificially understood. but what is love anyway?

a feeling?

a commitment?

a responsibility?

a gift?

I'm not one to judge love or judge others who want love. I want love. don't you? what kind of love do you want?

I want real love.

but again... what is love? what is this thing we want and fear so badly? what is this thing that overcomes our hearts and minds? what is this thing that breaks us open? what is this thing that binds and frees us? what is this thing we fall in and out of without pausing to ask ourselves the question, "why?" 

I feel there aren't enough words to describe love. I mean, the dictionary is obviously useless in trying to understand love. but anyways.

I think about love a lot, and how I love, and if I love. I ask questions a lot... and sometimes I have answers. but mostly just questions.

if you want to better understand love...

think about it. 

question it. 

feel it. 

give it. 

accept it.

keep it.

show it.

live it.

Transfiguration

it's a process of being cut open and breathed into: awakened.

it's a feeling of slow growing emotion rising up, reaching into the light.

it's a moment of being held safely and kissed gently: redeemed.

it's a realization of peaceful release, stepping into freedom.

it's a movement of being totally content and fearless: committed.

it's a sacrifice of self-motivated ambition, living in restored ambience.

What's It Going To Take?

a drop of vanity.

a twist of direction.

a look of misery. 

a polaroid of imperfection.

a scene of betrayal.

a game of tears.

a book of tales.

an embrace of fears.

a testimony of time.

a leap of depth.

a commitment of life.

a thought of regret.

a feeling of truth.

a breath of reason.

a step of resolve.

an approval of freedom.

a lesson of love.

a cry of cost.

a burst of faith.

a moment of loss.

a question of strength.

a state of realization.

an acceptance of grace.

a mark of vindication.

Enough.

our God of all comfort did not promise that following Him will be comfortable. He never promised we'll be "happy" on this daily journey, or that we will reach a point in our lives when everything will make sense. our God of love and grace and mercy did not promise that we will never be broken—never get hurt—never feel pain. He never promised us perfect parents, perfect friends, or perfect selves. our God of contentment never promised that we will one day be married and have kids, or that our kids will grow up and make "the right" choices. He never promised we won't have to go through hardships or losses; He didn't promise us we won't have to make sacrifices. our God of eternal liberation did not promise that we won't have to fight for our freedom, or that we won't have to die for the freedom of others. He never promised for us (or for the ones we love) good health and a long life here on earth. our God of life and light and beauty did not even promise us we will live to see the sunrise of tomorrow morning.

our God of truth has, however, promised us one thing:

Himself.

and that, my friends... is enough.

indubitable truth.

i run i search i hide i freeze; 

i close my eyes and feel the breeze. 

i cry i shine i love to love; 

i know my pride is not enough. 

i need more than my dreams and plans; 

i need a faith that moves mountains. 

i find myself in moments of doubt; but 

i find nothing to worry about. 

i am free with Him because of His grace; 

i am satisfied when seeking His face. 

i know i'm little; i know i'm weak; but 

i know my heart my Lord will keep.

Lights.

we drive past fields and through little towns;
i look up

at stars, and then back down
to the street lights all around.

the traffic lights are steady green, so we keep on going 

towards the lights 

that give direction, and shape the night. 

hundreds of cars drive the opposite way; 

their white head lights are a sea of soothing rage. 

we pass by parking lots and signs 

with buzzing lights and stories unkind. 

the air is cool, the night calmingly crisp... 

and i wonder if i'll miss my home, 

or if i could be any happier than this.

i lean my head back as we drive on;

i look up

at stars, and sneak a yawn,

then smile at the breaking dawn.

beauty

My eyes do not have lips, so why do they tell me fictional tales? I look to mirrors for advice more often than I look up for wisdom. Maybe if I were blind, my appreciation for beauty would grow. What is beauty anyway? Surely it is not just something seen; it is felt.

Close your eyes... do you feel beautiful?

keep beating, keep beating

we walk around with our stubborn hearts on the ground

pulling them with leashes

telling them to heel.

all is still and the blue sky shines. 

and no one knows of the undying wars within us.

a smile is a good shield.

but only a good shield.

sixty smiles per hour; my mouth hurts.

almost as much as my eyes hurt.

almost.

i fear the essence of solitude, and with fear comes the responsibility to reason with myself. i must persuade my heart to follow my feet, overlook the bruises, and keep beating.

this is simply written, yet hardly done.

break.

i need a break from brokenness.

just a little time to catch my breath, please.

i might take a break from writing.

i might take a break from who knows what.

being a doormat. 

something new is coming...

and i'm ready to embrace it.

four words.

Always.

There's always something to be scared of. I know it's wrong of me to fear, but sometimes I cannot escape my skin and let my brave soul take over. I believe I have the right to be wrong when I tell my ears I’m not okay. I trust my hope, but my shaking hands are clumsy and I tend to drop it. Each time, little pieces break off. I glue them back on, but I’m not sure my hope is the same as it was when I first found it.

Forever.

Even though it's been forever since I've been shaking under covers trying to hide from monsters under the bed... I'm still hiding. Even though there's nothing to be scared of. I can feel the weight of my calamity piling up in my chest; it hurts. But it’s okay. It will pass, as all things do.

Trouble.

I'm always trying to forget about the trouble that chases me. but I run out of breath too quickly—too often; I need rest. Some nights I think long and hard about what dreams I would like to have. But I wake up unsatisfied with the meaningless blurs of stories I’ve just awoken from.

Bottle.

I often put my dreams in a bottle and throw them out into the sea… only to have them wash up at my feet again. I can feel the weight of my decisions rush over me as I bend down to pick up the empty glass bottle. I realize I have been here before, so why do I keep coming back after all that has happened? Honestly, I’m not sure. 

as usual.

I DON'T CARE!

no, Jessie... you do care.

Silence screams in my face

as windows shatter

within me

cutting into my

limbs

bones

muscles

and pattern begins to erase me

and laugh in my face

as i fall again

back into sameness

back into apathy

back into salt water

streaming from my eyes

mocking me

burning me

drowning me

but i wonder if this time i am changed

am i new? am i different somehow?

arguments arise from this

yet not a word comes out

and i sit here questioning how i got here

and why i care

(all the while knowing i'm okay with who i am)

pretty sure

what is love anyway? and what is life? who are you and who am i? the way you sigh makes me wonder if we're really living or if we're merely alive. given that i will always be a child, i can't tell if i've grown or not; i think i have though. yeah, i'm pretty sure i have.

what is gravity anyway? and what is time? who were you and who was i? the way you cry makes me question whether or not we tried hard enough and if we're really fine. given that i will never be a child, i can't tell if i've learned anything of value or not; i think i have though. yeah, i'm pretty sure i have.

what is freedom anyway? and what is truth? i am me, but who are you? the way we move about restlessly makes me feel as though we are waiting for something already in our hands or searching for something found long ago. given that we will never understand everything, i can't tell you if we will be okay or not; i think we'll be okay though. yeah, i'm pretty sure we will be.

tonight i was honest

trust is still broken and anger still stirs...

but tonight i was honest.

tears will come and pain will come...

but tonight i was honest.

i'm still afraid and i have little control, 

but i do have some control... 

and tonight i was honest.

i am who i've been trying to be for the past three years...

and tonight...

tonight i was honest.

undying nonsense

rush, fool! against my soul. should i lie here? nobody knows, but we're up to no good, and yet you stand—you stare—i wait—we want the unknown. but it's more than they can handle. who's "we"? certainly not me. are you? of course it's you; you gave way to foul play of youth while jumping tall down the window pane. (i pain them without gain's name.) do or live, but with no havoc! i call to you... cheering for silent nights—holy nights. right hands go first, deep, down beneath it all in tides rising up penetrating vast, bright, sinking blue. she knew the names of fairy tales but then the fiery tiles all along the walls broke and shattered with no regard for happy matters. outside the sidewalk welcomes my little bored feet as i go with a small will to gain my laborious feat. i would love to stay and chat up a book, but i honestly prefer to dream and speak in colors rather than spill words into thirsty ears and gorge my stomach with guilty pleas. but for now i give farewell to them, the unknown. to you, the window. and to me, the fool.

[victim]

tonight my victimizing myself ends. 

i will not be the target 

of my own self-pity. 

i will not fall silent to the world's screaming pressures.

unless silence is strength. then i will not speak a word.

i will trust myself.

i will stop picking out my faults 

and stop analyzing them, too.

i will love myself.

because i am loved.

by the one who is Love.

fragile.

dry eyes will come

before the sun rises and no one has to know.

what's inside; what we hide behind.

i'm tempted to cave in

to all my raging sin.

my spirit is strong, 

but my flesh is so fragile here.

i'm so fragile here.

peace of soul

today. i am truly who i want to be.

i am free i am found. honestly happy.

and no, not everything in my life is going the way i want it to.

but i am blessed nonetheless. and thankful.

i have peace. and not just peace of mind.

i have peace of soul. 

October 8, 2007

Was I just not aware before, or is there a new war within me? I thought I was getting over it, but it's back. I miss it. I want it back. But I know I can't. I just can't give in. 

No. I won't.

Everyone has a song. Everyone is living in their own music videos. Only, it's a secret. They keep all the things they want to say inside. But inside is screaming. Screaming so loud you can't even hear it.

So many people. So many stories.

And yet I know not one of them.

I don't want to write, and yet I am.

I'm scared and yet I press on.

So many things are out of my control,

but I just...

I want to feel like I have some sort of control.

Replace me.

Go ahead, do it.

Leave me.

Blurry—everything is blurry through my eyes.

I hold in the water though... the salty water in my tears.

I'm dehydrated. I need them.

And besides,

I can't give you my vulnerability.

Ask me to stop and I will.

Just hold out your arms so I can't pass through.

Tell me it's no use.

short & tangy

life, by no means, is short and sweet.

instead... i believe that life is short and tangy.

yes, tangy.

think about it.

and if you don't agree,

feel free to prove me wrong.

i dare you.

ramble.

fly work love be after never forget me and then there will be a greatness of you of me and everything is still and and and for now i say nothing but my fingers are screaming stop think breathe trust know free because for not to be is now i don't care noble wise weak strong strength for nothing will be lost but found and free and i want to stop writing now but i can't and i have to be here or else i'll never be there spaces too big be better i need life you need a life because of shadow and i'm left alone with nothing comic strip nightmare of everything you are not and i'm so confused but what is not confusing is how i got here stuck like this again same way it happened last time and the time before and the time before i watch carefully with wide eyes staring glaring never prepared for what's at hand my hands are empty reaching far into the night sky search for answers knowing the outcomes multiple choice is not an option i wish i were the only way to let go is to exhale i can't though and i won't i'm not strong enough and i'm just filling the space with empty words empty songs empty religion empty tears empty oceans empty noise empty unnecessary for i am one with two things me and him i hate it i want to jump out i want to reach down and pull out my soul my heart me i'm trapped within my own skin i don't appreciate being told what to do i hate not being the boss of me but at the same time having complete control i don't want to be hurt and i don't want to sound absurd it's easier just to hold it all inside and say goodbye to all the things that make me happy i speak with lies and see untruth i always want to find myself but can't imagine what it's like to believe without my selfishness i wish i could write something meaningful right now but nothing is making sense and i'm so frustrated because i can't even breathe without regretting something my life is a regret and rest and think awhile then breathe and want and live all the while i'm thinking how i should have spoken up or how i should have held my tongue i don't make sense so just deal with it it's okay i don't care but i still do care and want what i've wanted all along all alone just me by me by me and talking doesn't solve anything

Are You Pro-

life  choice   freedom  sacrifice  war  

justice  God  money  EQUALITY  success 

access  liberty  reality  taxes  apathy  

creativity  abuse  victory  silence

green  kindness cheap labor   

poverty  rebellion  integrity  evolution  

hollywood  world peace  yellow 

education  reputation  technology   

vegetarianism  discrimination  

stem cell research  prosperity   

RELIGION  jail  empathy  (red)  servitude 

marriage  forgiveness  curiosity  

learning  divorce  interpretation   

death penalty  directions  

borders  prostitution   pink  healing  

DEMOCRACY  marijuana  

devoutness  style questions  solitude   

hierarchy  legalism  fortitude   

truth  homosexuality  hypocrisy   

America  independence  theocracy  exile 

allegiance  revenge  love  ?