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.

Easy Listening Meet Metal

“This is for the kids with the beaten in lips, whose parents try to shut them up using their fists. Keep living loud and proud. They never can hold you down. This is for the kids with a soul like mine. When people tell you living is a waste of your time. Keep living loud and proud. They can never hold you down.” ~Beartooth

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What is going on inside of the exits?
Inside of the blacks and the whites?
I am going to sit and here and listen to a few songs.
Ones that enter into my head and don’t ever let go.

Detailing the lies being told and figuring out what is in the fold.
Heading towards an entrance or an exit.
It doesn’t really matter which, because they are one and the same.
Listening to a song that I decided will bless your name.

A thunderous drive into the double bass.
Answering the calls of the screamer to the singer.
A metal drive that couples punk into the machine.
Mixing clean singing with chaos, that brings out the beauty of  everything around me.

A melody contradicting dichotomy.
Empathy surging through my entropy.
Organized chaos diving in and out of my song.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I weep and then I yell.
I call out and fall.
I decided to come down on my own.
I didn’t need your sympathy, but I needed your eyes.

This song is one that has highs and lows.
Singing about the kids that decided their lives don’t deserve a song.
What Hell are we living in when music can’t bless your soul?
A complete set of lies that answer only to the name of the enemy.

Light the fire and drive into the melody.
Set fire to the city and couple it with life.
For it is better to burn it to the ground… 
Than living a life of mediocrity.

I will sit here for a while and listen to my song.
I love seeing how it has developed.
A driving force of the double bass and the screams that ignite my soul.
Then to mellow out and sing out a praise.

Cheers to you…the empty and the lost.
Cheers to the easy listening and to the metal.
Cheers to the kids that decided to come to the show.
Cheers to you and your life that is more beautiful than you know.

“We’re nothing but hollow vessels in search of what makes us alive. I never said this was my revolution when you looked me in the eye.” ~Underoath

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Easily Offended

See, opinions are easier to swallow than facts. The grays instead of the whites and the blacks. If you shoot it too straight it won’t come back. We’re selling the news.  ~Switchfoot

Waaah!

He’s on track for something beautiful.
A letdown that is described as genius.
Taking out those that offended him today.
But you know… his feelings were hurt because you glanced his way…
So it is okay.

Trudging around and taking names.
Knowing he is part of the group that will live to complain another day.
Thank God a joke was made I have something to get angry at.
Crap, everyone is being so nice, they must be hiding something… time to get upset.

Jumping to conclusions before asking questions.
Knowing answers before letting anyone speak.
This is the way of life for a lot of those around me.
The golden age of technology muddled by disarray.

When the facts are pushed to the side for an answer based on feelings.
Or being tolerant by breaking the others head.
Using the heart to justify all walks of life.
And having no limit on what is considered right.

But you know it is okay.
I’ll keep on living anyway.
Well maybe not,
If they deem my life not to be right…

You know what?
I’ll go on and live despite what they say.
Because I have a right to seek after what I think is right.
Even if it flies into the faces of the easily offended and trite.

 

 

 

I Tried and I Failed (Participation Trophy)

“I’ll fantasize of being manic and leaving us behind. In your eyes, you were the one that tried. Acceptance is what holds us here. Then you my dear are the one I fear tonight.  We’ll try this one more time.” ~Underoath

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He asks questions he thinks deserves to be answered.
Integrating compassion into entropy.
Taking shots at people who would be better off longing for more.
And lacking the maturity to ask questions that may make a semblance of sense.

She walks through life with a splint in her personality.
Happy and sad inhabit the same space.
Depression is a welcoming change of pace.
And lacking the steam to press on when she has a minuscule amount of joy.

Together they form the modern entitlement.
Equal parts apathy and laziness.
Hoping to be discovered from a singular occurrence.
Stepping to the left because it is easier than stepping to the right.

Or maybe the right seems like an easier choice.
I don’t think it matters to the modern consumer.
Where taking it easy looks like the way I am supposed to be.
Instead of failing and learning and not getting that participation trophy.

Not to diminish hard times and face to face lies.
Not to say we are not all a bit lowly.
But today it is easier to wait than try.
When they tell you that it is okay to be not okay.

When hope is diminished to a flame hidden.
And the lights from peoples eyes die so quickly.
The hopeless have better questions than the believer.
When we fight and die in the name of being tolerant to my fellow man.

Just go out and work hard.
Go out and love your fellow man.
Find out who your are and die fighting for it.
Instead of sitting down waiting to be discovered by lying over indulgent agencies..

I don’t want your participation trophy.
I want to earn my rewards, my accomplishments, my chance to have hope and be free.
I don’t care what you think of me.
I choose to carry on and I strive to love despite all the times I wanted to flee.

At least I tried.
Not for a trophy, or for an award.
But to be a better version of who I once was.
To do better and to do good.
To be someone that I always knew I could.

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.

"How can we be ourselves, if we don't know who we are?" ~Jon Foreman