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  ?

cut & i

(opening scene:

the heavy, gray clouds roll in as thunder announces a storm.

the fragrance of rain is close at hand, and all is still with anticipation.

i wait with excitement for the drops to start coming down.

the rain is my redemption, and i am devout.

the people are apprehensive.

many are apathetic.

no one is happy.

no one, that is... except for me.

i am strong and courageous and genuinely content.

i am ready.

i am ready to begin living for something other than me.)

i will sing with the rain, giving thanks for my every breath.

cut out my voice box

and i will dance in the rain, as it washes over my dehydrated body.

cut off my legs

and i will write about the rain, as i capture every detail down on paper.

cut off my hands

and i will listen to the rain as it pours down a melody onto the rooftops.

cut off my ears

and i will watch the rain sliding softly off the widows of the cars passing by.

cut out my eyes

and i will smell the sweet rain soaking into the driveways around me.

cut off my nose

and i will lie in the rain, feeling the cleansing drops fall onto my skin.

and when the rain turns to ice,

numbing and cutting through my pale blue skin,

i will dream with gratitude of the beauty i have witnessed.

hi my name is jessie. so what?

i write without thinking, and think without speaking.

i am human, it is true; imperfect and a fool.

i have a pulse. and my heart beats pretty regularly.

i am a student, but let's just say solving quadratic equations

isn't my cup of tea.

tea?

yes... tea.

i like to stare.

i like to dance and wear socks.

i'm not a hopeless romantic, 

so don't buy me roses

and expect me to fall in love with you.

please & thank you.

i trip over myself often and love to be the center of attention.

really?

yes... really.

i'm not good with names unless they are middle names.

i love middle names.

i love eating ice cream with little spoons

(it makes it last longer).

i think i believe i know what i'm talking about

when i tell people why i am the way i am.

that is, if i ever explained myself to people.

which i don't.

huh?

nevermind.

i feel i am getting off track 

and do not wish to bore you any longer with information about myself, which you will probably forget in about 23.56 minutes (approximately).

i would say goodbye, but quite frankly, i hate goodbyes.

especially when i don't even know who i'm saying goodbye to. 

so i will say hello instead.

hi my name is jessie and now you know

just how random i really am.

tonight

i breathe.

i listen.

i wait.