Category Archives: inside

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.

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The Apartment Adventure

“I’ve been taking all the back roads home. When everything that’s held me back now becomes what’s making me come undone. On the ceiling is a secret door, and I’ve finally found the words to prove. When everything was tragic at once is what made me come unglued.” ~Fair

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This apartment is beginning to feel so small.
It is empty and filled with everything.
Nothing inside is enticing me to go outside.
And everything that has been cluttered makes me want to leave.

Fighting to get into each room of my place.
Every door is a puzzle that needs to be solved in order to retain a flow.
A box set up on the other side of the flat.
The prize is inside of it, but I must find a way to get to that room.

Up and down the first room has the vines that have strung me up many times.
The bog is up next and the dead I guess do stay near the lights.
A dessert where I am so thirsty that even the water I have saved up runs dry.
And then I must cross the ocean to an island to claim my prize.

This apartment is so small that it carries the entire world inside.
It feels large and inviting until you encounter a locked door.
A puzzle that needs to be solved in order to progress.
It’s like I am living in a game with a sword and a tear.

I wipe my eyes dry and venture forth hoping beyond hope I am able to reach the other side.
A home that makes sense.
A home where this man could call safe.
But first I need my prize, and that prize is across the ocean, past biomes I have not yet trekked.

This apartment is so small, and I wish to leave.
This apartment is so large I wish to stay.
What is the day when the forge gives you a sword?
What hour is it when the armor is made?

I take up arms filled with the good type of pride.
I take heart and realize you are by my side.
I take courage in knowing that I tried.
I take a step into the unknown, through the biomes that have become home.

A universe made and a universe trekked.
An answer is out there I just need you to have my back.
To help me forge the rivers and to climb up high.
To jump off and then teach me how to fly.

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The Lie of Being Outside

“On the eve of a day that’s forgotten and fake, and the trees they await and clouds anticipate, the start of a day when we put on our face. A mask that portrays that we don’t need grace. On the eve of a day that is bigger than us, but we open our eyes ’cause we’re told that we must.”
       
~Twenty-One-Pilots

~The Lie of Being Outside~
When I look out my window I see many things.
I see the grass green and growing.
And it is growing even if I cannot see a physical change in that moment.
When I look out my window I see many things.
I see the sky,
I see the wind even though I am told it is impossible.
I see the waves of sound emanating from every living and non living thing.
I even can see me, standing and walking away from the man inside the house.
This outside is an illusion it is a place devoid of truth.
The inside is what tells the stories.
And the more we go inside,
The more we will find.
That window in front of me is no doorway to a better place.
There is no greener field of flowers over the hill.
There is no peace in a tree.
The tree is there to support a noose.
A noose that hangs every lie being told to children around the world.
That outside is a place where dreams come true.
The broad and the terrible will not bring truth.
It brings sorrow that you can not learn from.
On the inside is where the grass grows.
It is where the seeds take root and becomes what they were made to be.
The inside is the outside for those that believe.
We see the world for what it is and it is a mixed bag of folly.
We were not meant to be of this world.
Our home and destination burns brighter than any sun this universe has to offer. 
The promise of a life without pain.
The promise to be free.
Outside of His arms is a place I do not wish to be.
For inside I am more than free.
I am alive, and being alive makes my eyes see.
I am alive and I wish to dance not for me.
Do not be fooled by the outside.
Look and know that truth comes from the inside.
The inside of arms that were scarred.
Inside of arms that died to set you and me free.