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.