Category Archives: emotions

Morning Sickness

“Every lament is a love song.” ~Switchfoot

He stands on the edge of his mind and his heart.
Largely distracted by what is going on around him, and what is going on inside. 
Which one will win?
He knows, but he doesn't feel like telling and one. 

A morning sickness that has nothing to do with pregnancy.
A sickness developed from opening his eyes and realizing he is alive.
Stricken to his sheets, the ones that feel like home.
For the floor is lava and o scary to venture into alone.

Ducking and diving in and out.
Avoiding the fire that's coming from all around him.
The gun sight is set to his heart and others to his head.
One good shot and everything goes away, from them or even from the one he is carrying.

But the truth is he doesn't want this to be the case.
I don't think any of us really do.
But sometimes this world seems to be too much, and all he wants is to be somewhere else.
With someone who will never forsake him.

He sits alone on the porch that looks out into the yard.
A storm is brewing and the lightening is coming at regular intervals.
The wind picks up and the trees start to sway to the beat.
Clap clap, bang bang, flash flash...boom. 

His funeral is tomorrow and not an eye is dry.
Closed casket in the morning and sandwiches with aunts in the afternoon.
"We should get together more often." They will say.
"What an awful way to get the family together."

Leaving behind the mother and the father.
A part of the world ripped away by one single act.
Friends that loved  him, now on the floor wondering what they could have done better.
Wondering what they could have done to help him fly...

Today is my Birthday

“You say I’m a loser in the background. I can never seem to get it right, but I’m learning my worth is more than your word.” ~Beartooth

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Today is my birthday and I am a bit different than the others around me.
My mentality is a bit stricken when in the presence of people.
A comfortable state that doesn’t come naturally to me.
Like stumbling over words around those that used to care.

On the outside looking in for most of my days,
But I am okay with it now,
But for a time it was all that I could do not to scream at me being me.
As for the now who knows if I have truly moved on?

Insecure and walking through crowds that decide if I am being social enough.
I never felt like gravitating towards a specific side.
Rather longing for long stretches of imagining just who I am.
And failing enough times to last a couple lifetimes.

Failure is not over, I am sure.
For in life you fail.
How you get back up is what truly defines you.
How you act in the face of success could be a bit more telling.

I just wonder if I will one day find out for myself if that is true.
I’ll take my little victories and insecurities.
My typecast role that I fight against.
Or the face that is beautiful but is so far away, even if it is right next to me.

For the meaning of me is the meaning of hope.
A rise to the bottom wondering if I will ever get to the top.
My soul crying out for water that means more than any human soul.
Let me dry out my hands while reaching out.

Today is my birthday, and what do I have to say?
Should I tell of great accomplishments, or just go on with my day.
Should I tell of my angst that still presides since I was 16?
Today is my birthday, and I think I may be worth more than what my mind tells me.

I am a person that justifies myself by a wandering eye.
A hand that I use to reach high and employ to cry out to the other side.
A hand held out to anyone who needs what I wish to have.
And a person I long to be.

For today is my birthday,
And I guess it is a reflective type of day.
My hope anchored in my heart of hearts.
Knowing I have a long road to go.
Knowing that I have those around that remind me that I am not always alone.

She’s in Love with Chaos

“She was a wreck. but he loved her. She was a wreck, but so was he.” ~Copeland

 

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It looks like a heartache waiting to happen.
When the phone hits the floor and she is left alone.
The other line dead and the voice has stopped.
And the drumming from her head is working harder than her heart.

She’s in love with chaos.
The ups and the downs.
The lefts that are actually rights, her mind begging to be found.
She’s in love with chaos.
The unknown, is the start of her disorganization alone.

Picking up the pieces and moving one.
Going from one phone to another waiting to belong.
Not trying to hard to sing a better song.
All she does is wait for heartache, to become her white and black swan.

She’s in love with chaos.
The deaf tones of awkward lies.
The messed up deliveries of sought after lines.
She’s in love with chaos.
With her mind, taking deep breaths and taking names that she must find.

Sectioned off and in the crowd.
Determined for more than a sour sound.
But not giving it enough effort or follow through.
The choice is hers, even though she’ll never limit herself to a few.

She’s in love with chaos.
The ups and the downs.
The lefts that are actually rights, marked with hearts waiting to be found.
She’s in love with chaos.
Heartbreak brought on, by late night phone calls and luck based falls.

She’s in love with chaos.
And the Lord knows…
That one day maybe her eyes will see the light being shown.
She’s in love with chaos and the rest.
For one moment she breaks and finally passes a test.

Maybe a Bit of Entropy

“Stars looking at our planet watching entropy and pain.”  ~Switchfoot

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My empathy sometimes turns into entropy.
A confusion of thoughts and ideas that sometimes get thrown onto a blog.
A clear cut meaning doesn’t always come through.
But that is nothing new.

For people write, talk, and sing.
They do all these things to audiences that may or may not see what they are trying to say.
A little worry here, and a lot of anger over there.
A bit of chaos that can bind together the linearity of my life.

Break down what it means to be alive.
Take it down to the basic elements.
What are we left with?
I am left with you, God and me.
And maybe a bit of entropy.

Looking Towards Being a Man

“Wake up in the middle of the night. Just don’t believe everything’s all right when thoughts are running around your head.” ~Emery

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He stands at the end of his rope, hoping for a tug to get him back on the edge.
Answering a call and checking the voice twice.
Is it true the person on the other line is me?
Or is he deciding to treat it as a way to escape being free?

Extinguishing the hope that shrouds his soul.
Taking the next best thing that never was an answer.
Accepting the end as his own personal heaven.
Instead of reflecting and taking it a bit slower.

Screwing what he knows to be the truth.
Twisting my every word into  the next big controversy.
Enlightening his target audience to the staleness of his life.
He is the one that hates the way things turned out.

But they would not have been that way if he just paid attention.
He was stuck in his own bubble.
Waiting for someone to come and pop it.
When he should have escaped by himself.

A man not squander his potential in pursuit of another.
A man should not let himself implode and create a barrier pushing others away.
A prayer that enters in and changes the way you perceive the worlds color.
Become the man that you were meant to be.
And do not let the past decide who you are today.

 

My Personal Perception Personified By Convictions

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“I was a pharisee. I never saw the need for grace. Then your love came to me, stood next to mine and I saw that I was poor. Show me I was poor, show us we are…glorious. We are glorious not from what good we have done, but from being the least.”  ~As Cities Burn

 

Sunlight hits your cheek, and the glimmer awakens something deep inside of me.
A longing that I never knew existed before.
Well, that is not entirely true.
I have known, and I have seen but I have never believed.

Sunlight graces the edge of a cliff.
The shadow it creates is more beautiful than the light…to me.
It is signifies the stretch of time between then and now.
Before your glimmer equaled more than an anxious feeling.

Take a chance on me and one day God I will fully be more.
Take a chance on me Lord and I will fail you.
Take a chance on me King and I will disappoint.
But if you take a chance on me, I swear I will believe.

Sunlight hits another.
That ends before it even began.
Not a chance to truly develop because I effed that up.
I let the pain of the past come in and take what may.

Sunlight decides to shine on me, and I hate the way it looks me in the eye.
I prefer to be held in a lie.
To take it and nurture it so I can hide from the truth.
The truth that I am worth it, that grace has set me free.

Take a chance on me friend and I will fail you.
Take a chance on me girl and maybe we can help one another.
Take a chance on me good sir and our friendship might blossom into perfect chaos.
But if you take a chance on me know I am all in, and every chance I get I wish to do something for you…not for me.

I sing for my sins.
I sing for my false religion.
I tantalize my being with a song that is not from the One who gave it all.
I am an idolater when I need a bit of a pick me up.

But Jesus I beg of thee…take a chance on me.
Let me be an offering when I run away.
Let my knees buckle when the sunlight reveals the flaws.
Have me weep in an apartment on a Sunday afternoon when it is just you and me.

Sunlight is my enemy, it is my best friend, it is my lover, and my guide.
I run from the sunlight just as much as I run to it.
Comfort from my own understanding, depression caused from my way of thinking.
Sinning and believing, doubting and worshiping.

Baptizing the inter sanctum of my mind’s eye.
A world view taking root before the very nature of life even starts.
I take the wine and the bread to partake in my belief.
And then I look to the ground and try to do it my own way.

Will I ever get a chance to pick a side.
Will the struggle be made plain, so I can actually reach up to Heaven and be wiped clean?
This world is a mine filled travesty, made into a sin woven tapestry.
I do not belong in this place and my body fights that fact every day.

Do you know who I am?!
Do you think I am this mess of a man?
Do you think I have zero intelligence on the subject of my Savior?
Do you know who I am?!

Do I know who I am?!
Do I think I am worth the very air I breathe?
Do I think that there is something better after death?
Do I know who I am?!

I am a man…and this is my personal perception personified by my convictions.
A sin filled life from the start, and a longing to keep on doing it.
When I know that my vices will never let me win.
Yet, I struggle and I call out day after day.
For I am a man, that does not like to go outside when the sun is shining and hoping to play.

I am a man… broken, bitter, loved, saved.
I am just a man…one that has no control, ever since I went down on my knees.
I am not a savior…but I do look to one.
I am a man…flawed, hurt, depressed, anxious.
Yet hope is still there…

The sunlight hits a cheek far away from where I am today.
One day I think I will see.
If I want to be a better me…
I need to answer prayer with prayer and know there is hope that never goes away.

“Burning out my sins until there’s nothing but dust. Holding me with care into your cigarette. Cause the God I believe in never worked on a campaign trail.”    ~Brand New519048855_1280x720

The Reader Turned Author

“So now I’m forging ahead past all the plutocrats who sold me out. Go sob in your bed, if life is twice as pretty once you’re dead. Then send me a card. I’m still the optimist though it is hard, when all you want to be is in a dream.”    ~Say Anything

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I open up this book.
It looks like a good read.
A good cover, old, and full of promise.
The first few pages grip me and I dive in a little further.

One hundred pages in things start to turn.
The pages change and the light that was in my eye begins to fade.
I really wish I could stop reading,
But then I realize this book is my life and I an not the reader but the authror.

A non fiction tale of a boy who wished for the world and received coal.
A story decided by false senses of control.
A story laid out from the middle, to the beginning and then the end.
Thank God the end is always where it is supposed to be.

Disjointed pages make for a difficult read.
Dreams that came true and then failure ensues.
People lost in time and wondering why they had to be killed off for the narrative.
Maybe once I reach the end of the chapter it will make sense.

Of course that is not the case.
Each chapter ends on a cliff hanger.
Your dream fulfilled,
But then you remember that you have more life to live, and you run scared like a little kid.

A funny thing about life is that it keeps on going.
A wonderful thing about life is there is a hope that never lets go of you.
A roller-coaster ride of emotion going up and then down.
A dichotomy between what they say and what makes you run away.

I turn the page and something different catches my eye.
A glimmer at the end of this road.
A little spark that invites even the coldest of hearts to its burning coals.
He starts to run… I start to run towards the brief light that lingers.

As I continue to write and try to reach my full potential
As I run to a hope that for some reason continues to shine through.
As I choose to believe instead of doubt.
Maybe even the middle can be great for a little cynic like me.

But then again even my warmest days lead me astray.
And the cold ones bring me comfort because I stay inside, instead of coming out to play.
I read a bit further and then decide to sit on my hands and read a play.
Maybe the stage directions will give me more insight than this dusty book full of blue and gray.

I’be hidden a note, it’s pressed between pages that you’ve marked to find your way back. It says, ‘Does he ever get the girl?’ But what if the pages stay pressed, the chapters unfinished, the stories too dull to unfold? Does he ever get the girl?”   ~Dashboard Confessional