I Dropped a Pin One Day

“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.”
– Mother Teresa


~I Dropped a Pin One Day~

I dropped a pin one day.

The next day I picked it up.
It was a single drop of a single object.
Because of this I picked it up.
That was the day a soul fell apart.
The next day I helped pick it up.
It was a single person with a single soul.
Because of this I picked it up.

I dropped two pins one day.

The next day I picked them up.
It was two drops of two objects.
Because of this I picked them up.
That was the day two souls fell apart.
The next day I helped pick them up.
It was  two people with two souls.
Because of this I picked them up.
This pattern went on and on.

The pins would fall.
I would pick them up.
Souls would fall apart.
I would pick them up.
Until the souls no longer fell and the pins no longer dropped.
The pins the souls they stopped dropping at the number 33.
I dropped a pin one day.

The next day I did not pick it up.
It was a single drop of a single object.
Because of this I did not pick it up.
That was the day I fell apart.
The next day no one picked me up.
Because of this no more pins would drop.
Because of this those around fell apart. 

The next city over Lacie dropped a pin.

That same day she picked it up.
Maybe she wont fall one day?




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The Carnival

I wrote this one awhile ago while going through a rough time.

It turns out you were into yourself. It turns out you could f**k your way out. Just once more for my baby girl. ~Lydia

~The Carnival

Enter for the chance to win a prize.
The prize today is a broken heart, but tomorrow the prize is misery.
Sweet candy and caramel corn the carnival is in full swing.
Entering into madame Clarice’s she tells me to sit down and play her little game.
“Enter for the chance to win a prize my dear. The prize today is a broken heart, but tomorrow the prize is misery.
If you feel like leaving you cannot you must play and you will always win.”

A week later the carnival was still sweet and it was still swinging.
Another victim comes into the game, and this victim is still me after last weeks life changing day.
She looked me in the eye and said,
“Welcome my dear. Wont you sit down and play?
Enter for the chance to win a prize.
The prize for today is a bitter day, but tomorrow the prize is no more day.
Come in and play my little game.
Once you enter you must stay.
You will play my little game.
You will play and you will win.
Thank God you came today.”

Trouble Finds Me

~Trouble Finds Me~
Trouble finds its way into the depths of my soul.
It devours my line of sight.
It takes out my defenses and forces me to go underground.
Concepts of fear and loathing defends my right to make mistakes.
Concepts of hope and strength declare my right to fight on.

Trouble finds its way into the depth of my soil.
It roots and grows until it blossoms into dreams that I somehow always burn. 
It grows into weeds and sometimes the weeds are more beautiful than the flower.
Concepts of fear and loathing defends my right to an honorable death.
Concepts of hope and strength declare my right to live with strength.

We are not the high and mighty.
We are not the Lords of our worlds.
We are not kings and queens.
For our God made himself small.
For our God made a way for me to no longer live for myself.
We are the sons and daughters.
We are the children of the high and mighty.
We are the children of the Lord of our worlds.
We are the children of the King.
Trouble finds its way into the depths of me.
Fear, loathing, hope, and strength.
Living, dying, mistakes, and the fight.

All of it makes up us.
All of it makes up this thing called life.

For My Grandpa

~Lamenting the Mourning~

This high and low seems to be the same thing.
When it belongs to another the other belongs to me.
Hearing the sounds that make up life and the unity of the heart, and making up words to describe it, makes life worth living.
The high and low makes my heart belong to another and hopefully the other will oblige.
When it belongs to another the other belongs to me.
Forward and backwards are one and the same. dichotomy becomes the same and the same becomes separate.
This high and low seems to be the same thing.
This high and low defines character and it defines the tear that falls when it dies.
Lamenting the terrible, lamenting the happy, lamenting the feeling of lamentations.
Mourning is the same as living and living is not to bad.
When living belongs to another, mourning belongs to me.
Take out the heart and put it on your sleeve every once and awhile.
You will be glad you did.
This high is no longer a high and this low is no longer a low.
The two become a singular entity that binds my mind to my heart and my soul to the One.
Thanks for the lamenting and the mourning.
I hope this is not another, for when it is another the other belongs to me. 

~I Have No Idea What to Do~

“So you tried to put a fire out but you used gasoline. And when the congregation  gathered round You’re screaming “it wasn’t me.” So there’s a sickness that is going round
but no one’s got a vaccine. I think it drowned in holy water I think it’s time we all come   clean.
I swear it’s like dying to catch a ghost.
It feels like I’m trying to hold smoke. ” 
  ~Brand New

 

~I Have No Idea What to Do~
 
I have no idea what to do.
I have no clue where to go.
I am an old abandoned church where the preacher continues to spew his bile.
The doctrine was never true and now I am looking for another way through.
 
I have no idea where to go.
I have no clue what to do.
My heart is heavy and my stomach is butterflies.
I am a lost soul that takes a breath just to sing everyday.
 
I have no idea where to go, or what to do.
I have ideas and thoughts but none of them lead to the desired conclusion.
I am leaving and I wish I was staying.
I want to leave but then I have the need to go back. 
 
I just want an answer, even though I have grown comfortable in confusion.

Until the Lights Go Out(Ramblings of the Confused)

~Until the Lights Go Out(Ramblings of the Confused)~

“The Atlantic was born today and I’ll tell you how… The clouds above opened up and let it out.I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere When the water filled every hole. And thousands upon thousands made an ocean, Making islands where no island should go. Oh no.” ~Death Cab for Cutie


Is it possible to disagree with the plea from someone who calls for help?

Is it at all possible to love when nothing else seems to show any inkling of good behavior?

Is it at all possible that the crap this world comes up with is a ruse that gets people sucked in and the next stop is a trip to Hell?

Let it all begin with the second talks and the first thoughts of every enemy known. 

To take down the boss and then take down its many forms until it flashes red and is then never known. 

Is it possible to end up alone when somebody is on the phone?

Or lay down your life for another after they end up liking some one better?

Is it at all possible that this life is nothing but a drop dead gorgeous woman flaunting her curves for all to see… and in the end it is beautiful until that bullet murders me?

Or is this life conquered by blood sweat and tears?

Where hard work is what is needed and it then casts out all of my fears. 

Long live the death of solitude and trust.

Long live the dust that covers my heavy heart.

No longer dead, but alive inside this dream.

The dream of all that is done and all that is laid before me.

It is possible to decide if I am good or not?

Is it possible to shake off this sin and cast all my lots?

To trust in no one but trust in trust alone.

Till the time has come and the lights go out, and we find out what this life has been all about. 

I Wonder What Happened

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.” 

Chili Davis 

~I Wonder What Happened?~

When I became an adult what happened?
Did I move away from joy and fun?
Did I linger on moments of past events?
Did I long to be young again?

What did I do?

When I learned that I was no longer a child what happened?
Did I go off the deep end and screw the first thing in a skirt?
 Did I love no more?
Did I hunt down my old self and scold him for what I a now?

What did I do?

Beautifully made, wonderfully made, targeted at birth for death.
When you become an adult does that pass away?
When you become an adult do old dreams die?
When you become an adult what matters? 

What did I do?

When I became an adult what happened?
When I learned that I was no longer a child what happened?
I guess the simple answer may shock some of our viewers.
It may make them run for cover, and wonder why I would do such a thing.

I did not lose my joy and fun.
I did not linger on the events of my past.
I did not wish to be young again.I did not screw the first skirt that I saw.
I did not lose love.
I did not hunt down my old self and scold him for what I am now.

What did I do?

I grew up. 

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