Category Archives: emotions

The Truth Still Remains…

My heart is breaking.
My eyes are sweating.
The fibers of my being are crying out.
With a simple message in my heart… I miss you.

Today is a good day.
Nothing is wrong.
Nothing has gone astray.
But the truth still remains… I miss you.

I see a family visiting family.
I see a friend moving away.
I found out I will miss them when I get back on a Sunday.
Even if that will be a glorious day.

A sorrow has gripped my throat.
A friend has gone back home.
Happiness is not enough,
For this feeling to go away.

There is this simple truth in the air.
It’s a good one I swear.
It hurts to be this far.
It hurts because we are close.

I miss you more than a shepard losing his flock.
I miss you because you left.
I miss you because you are not here.
I miss you because right now I wish to be there.

I miss you.
And I think that means I have love in my heart.
A love for my family and my friends.
Friends that I consider my family.

I miss you.
But more importantly know that I love you,
And I am here for you.
Even if I am miles and miles away.

My heart is breaking.
My eyes are sweating
The fibers of my being are crying out.
With a simple message in my heart… I miss you.

Do You Ever Look Back?

Do you ever take a look back.
Back in time to see the ones that loved you,
The ones that wronged you,
Or maybe the ones that should have gotten more attention?

Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you went right instead of left,
Took that train instead of taking the other,
Gone back to the girl that smiled when you passed by,
Or jumped up instead of ducking?

I think that we all have times when we reflect a little too much.
Where we don’t hesitate to establish a connection to the past.
Or when we take a deep dive into what if…?
But I think that periodic trips are more useful than dwelling.

For your home is what you have right now.
The hearth is the heart that beats at the present.
It is not the dusty mantle where childhood pictures are toppled,
Or the open door to the portraits made from past regrets.

Do you ever enter into the future to check the past?
What about the present,
Is it too much to ask for a reprieve from where we are now?
Is your home as warm as it was before?

Do you ever take a look back?
Do you take a vacation to better times?
Do you regret the moment you didn’t take your life?
Is it hard to steer away from prior heartbreaks and spilled milk?

Take heart.
You are here right now, alive and beautiful.
Take heart.
Your home can be rebuilt.

Do you ever look back?
I sure do.
I believe that we all sometimes need to.
At least that is the case for me.

Do you ever look back?
Do you look for the now?
Do you look ahead?
Which one looks better to you?

Ring in a New Tune (Part 3 of 3)

It hurts like a tornado ripping through its specified target.
A misfortune of chaos, brightly throwing debris.
It is described as a cleanse.
But it feels like the end in my head.

It hurts like a hurricane tearing through the open coast.
Where locals are still in their boats,
Tourists have to change their plans.
And there is false hope when the eye shows its face.

Once more with feeling.
One more dream opened up and swallowed whole.
Once more with feeling.
When the land is not discernible from the sea.

Take me into the waves.
Take me to the edge of the Earth.
Where I can swim and maybe float.
Take me to the sea, so I may hear your voice in the waves.

Because God it hurts more than trying out self control.
It hurts because I lost your song.
That simple melody that defined me.
A tune unsung for too long.

I decided to fill up the oceans today.
One drop at a time.
One more salty distraction that leaks from my eyes.
I decided that your love is enough.

Because God it hurts more than listening to your voice.
It hurts because I lost your song.
That simple chord of hope.
A tune I have not sought after for some time.

Because God  it is time.
It is time to keep singing, whether I am on tune or not.
Because God I miss your waves.
Tossing and tearing right through me.

I would love to find the song.
Your song.
One with a melody I can follow.
Or one that is chaotic, but true.

And in those moments when the pain is unbearable.
And the hurt is deciding its own course.
There is a whisper that is near.
A voice that cuts through.

A song that is just for me.
One that is a sweet melody.
One that is chaotic and true.
One that is the center of me and you.

Because God it hurts more than the tree in the forest.
The one that tumbles and no one can hear it.
But I have your melody, I have your tune.
For your hope is enough, and your song is love renewed.

 

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.