she-who-must-not-be-named

God dips his head beneath the murky surface of war and blood searching for his children. His children. They cry out to Him, accuse Him, have forgotten Him, need Him. They are lost in the muck and the filth and the smog of this nation that throws the first stone; and he weeps as He plucks His children up out of the blood and the dirt and sets them down into the tower of Babel where the people shout “There is no room!” and cry out to Him, accuse Him, have forgotten Him. This nation that shoots first and asks questions later, the nation of “not my problem,” and moving on. He touches their heads as they fall asleep, he speaks to them and grants them dreams, and they turn away on their beds of lost memories as they struggle not to hear, not to feel… not to feel even the breathing, the heartbeat, of their lover, their partner, their other half as they reach out in their tossing and turning of nightmares of a nation that does not rest. The nation who binds their hands in the wires of computers and keyboards, the nation that eats the apple and – in the perceived absence of their Father – raise up false books, sing of false stars, rampage, adulterize and falsify amongst each other always looking for the one, the next one, the next one, is this your card, is this your card, is this your card? But you’ve had your own card, your own self, in your back pocket, you’ve forgotten what it looks like and now you cannot find the match. They way worn nation that rests, God bless the rest, by swallowing drug after drug after drink after drink, only to find that rest and that peace just in time to feel the **** of the wires on their bound hands drag them back up again. So they swallow more drugs, and more drinks, and let their minds wander and wish for their family, but when they go home they think of their labor what’s next for they must prepare, they must keep moving ever forward, never looking back. And so let the frustration grow. And the family ever fall. The family, the nation, that drowns beneath the flood of a weeping God who must break His promise, for His children are lost to Him beneath the feet of so many bearing the mark of Cain. The feet that do not rest. The feet that keep on walking past the empty forests, the old man on the street, the blind woman crying, the sick starving child sitting next to them. And these people, these poor people, they sit and they wait and they cry out “why,” they cry out “Help” …For their Father cannot find them in the murky, ****** water that covers this broken nation.

0

Oct 31, 2015

Oct 31, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC

The Nation

God dips his head beneath the murky surface of war and blood searching for his children. His children. They cry out to Him, accuse Him, have forgotten Him, need Him. They are lost in the muck and the filth and the smog of this nation that throws the first stone; and he weeps as He plucks His children up out of the blood and the dirt and sets them down into the tower of Babel where the people shout “There is no room!” and cry out to Him, accuse Him, have forgotten Him. This nation that shoots first and asks questions later, the nation of “not my problem,” and moving on. He touches their heads as they fall asleep, he speaks to them and grants them dreams, and they turn away on their beds of lost memories as they struggle not to hear, not to feel… not to feel even the breathing, the heartbeat, of their lover, their partner, their other half as they reach out in their tossing and turning of nightmares of a nation that does not rest. The nation who binds their hands in the wires of computers and keyboards, the nation that eats the apple and – in the perceived absence of their Father – raise up false books, sing of false stars, rampage, adulterize and falsify amongst each other always looking for the one, the next one, the next one, is this your card, is this your card, is this your card? But you’ve had your own card, your own self, in your back pocket, you’ve forgotten what it looks like and now you cannot find the match. They way worn nation that rests, God bless the rest, by swallowing drug after drug after drink after drink, only to find that rest and that peace just in time to feel the **** of the wires on their bound hands drag them back up again. So they swallow more drugs, and more drinks, and let their minds wander and wish for their family, but when they go home they think of their labor what’s next for they must prepare, they must keep moving ever forward, never looking back. And so let the frustration grow. And the family ever fall. The family, the nation, that drowns beneath the flood of a weeping God who must break His promise, for His children are lost to Him beneath the feet of so many bearing the mark of Cain. The feet that do not rest. The feet that keep on walking past the empty forests, the old man on the street, the blind woman crying, the sick starving child sitting next to them. And these people, these poor people, they sit and they wait and they cry out “why,” they cry out “Help” …For their Father cannot find them in the murky, ****** water that covers this broken nation.

15

Do you ever think of the future? Do you often dream of the past? Do you ever think of leaving me? Do you think of us, and things yet to pass? What goes through that head of yours? What thoughts drive you through the day? I bet your mind isn't always running All along with illogical things, far away. What do you think about me really? What's your first thought of the day? What concerns keeps you up at night? What worries pester you, and how can I take them away? What do you think about the world? What about other ones? How do you feel about time travel? How far do you think our universe runs? How do you wish to spend life? What have you done with it so far? Do you dream of running away from here? Can I come with you, can we live amongst stars? The power of a question Truly lies in how you ask it. So be careful about things you want to know And more so about what you admit.

0

Jun 9, 2014

Jun 9, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC

What do you think?

Do you ever think of the future? Do you often dream of the past? Do you ever think of leaving me? Do you think of us, and things yet to pass? What goes through that head of yours? What thoughts drive you through the day? I bet your mind isn't always running All along with illogical things, far away. What do you think about me really? What's your first thought of the day? What concerns keeps you up at night? What worries pester you, and how can I take them away? What do you think about the world? What about other ones? How do you feel about time travel? How far do you think our universe runs? How do you wish to spend life? What have you done with it so far? Do you dream of running away from here? Can I come with you, can we live amongst stars? The power of a question Truly lies in how you ask it. So be careful about things you want to know And more so about what you admit.

24

Trust is important. Relationship's foundation. Why can't you trust me?

0

Jun 4, 2014

Jun 4, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC

Tired.

Trust is important. Relationship's foundation. Why can't you trust me?

3

I think I know you so well Then there are days... It's just... it's hard to tell If you're with me or away In the depths of your mind, a personal hell You get your thoughts twisted You think this all a joke, a game I wish it was all more easily resisted For you are hard to reclaim I hold you tight with care I tell you it's ok; I love you But you aren't really there You've retreated to someplace and I can't break through Come back to me my darling I will coax and I will reassure But you must stop this quarreling Our love is secure. With us, there is no punch line No love has ever been so real In my eyes...you will only ever shine Come back to me my love, and your heart I will heal

0

May 23, 2014

May 23, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC

Come Back to Me

I think I know you so well Then there are days... It's just... it's hard to tell If you're with me or away In the depths of your mind, a personal hell You get your thoughts twisted You think this all a joke, a game I wish it was all more easily resisted For you are hard to reclaim I hold you tight with care I tell you it's ok; I love you But you aren't really there You've retreated to someplace and I can't break through Come back to me my darling I will coax and I will reassure But you must stop this quarreling Our love is secure. With us, there is no punch line No love has ever been so real In my eyes...you will only ever shine Come back to me my love, and your heart I will heal

21

For the first time, I'm focused on me. For the first time, I can look ahead, without trying to see someone else. With you, oddly, It is easy to quiet my mind. With you, relievingly, I'm not focused on what's next. Who would have thought that it would take a great love to forget my worries; To see my future laid out before me. Not our future.... MY future. And it all seems so easy. With you.

0

May 21, 2014

May 21, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC

You and I

For the first time, I'm focused on me. For the first time, I can look ahead, without trying to see someone else. With you, oddly, It is easy to quiet my mind. With you, relievingly, I'm not focused on what's next. Who would have thought that it would take a great love to forget my worries; To see my future laid out before me. Not our future.... MY future. And it all seems so easy. With you.

19

That fragile cry Those tiny hands Such a small body, such big pain. That tiny heart that pumps much too hard, That tiny heart was pierced much too young. So close to death, So close to life, So in between, It isn’t right. Will they hear the pitter-patter of little feet running? Will they hear the softest of cries so early in the morning? Will she grow and become strong? Will she go, and leave us so young? Too young to fight, Too young to give up, Too young to die, Too young to live. Little Abigail, close your eyes you will not have to fight. Mommy has you in her hands everything will be alright. Grow big and strong in the Lord for you are meant for so much more. Little Abigail, close your eyes, and sleep. From you I want to hear not a peep. Rest now and later we shall see. The running, the growing, of your little feet. Abigail Madison Elise Nevitt, AMEN is cried out for you. AMEN, the name given to you. Borne on Good Friday, she came home on Easter. God bless that little heart, she was blessed from the very start.

0

May 20, 2014

May 20, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC

A.M.E.N.

That fragile cry Those tiny hands Such a small body, such big pain. That tiny heart that pumps much too hard, That tiny heart was pierced much too young. So close to death, So close to life, So in between, It isn’t right. Will they hear the pitter-patter of little feet running? Will they hear the softest of cries so early in the morning? Will she grow and become strong? Will she go, and leave us so young? Too young to fight, Too young to give up, Too young to die, Too young to live. Little Abigail, close your eyes you will not have to fight. Mommy has you in her hands everything will be alright. Grow big and strong in the Lord for you are meant for so much more. Little Abigail, close your eyes, and sleep. From you I want to hear not a peep. Rest now and later we shall see. The running, the growing, of your little feet. Abigail Madison Elise Nevitt, AMEN is cried out for you. AMEN, the name given to you. Borne on Good Friday, she came home on Easter. God bless that little heart, she was blessed from the very start.

36

I wander. Endlessly, I wander. Ceaselessly, I walk. Forever more, I go on. How many ways can I depict my unrest to you? Footprints are the timeline of my life. Where I’ve been, the mistakes and wrong turns I’ve made. The people who have walked in. The people who have walked out. They are etched in the ground, broken in by my feet. Every so often, a second set of footprints joins mine. Some go on for months, years. Those are my favorites. But they never really last. Most dip in and out of my path. Some lead me in circles until I have to leave them behind. You never know what steps are the right ones Until you’re looking back at them, behind you. I wander. I search. I trust. And then, I hurt. Of these steps I am sometimes wary, But the set of prints next to mine makes me sure footed, now. I squint to look ahead, but my vision is terrible. I can’t be sure, but it seems that there are many sets of prints ahead. Strong, deep, sure-footed paths are carved out in the future. Please, take me there. Please, do not lead me astray. I don’t want to have look back to judge the way you stroll by my side. Do not waiver now; I haven’t got time for circles any longer.

0

May 20, 2014

May 20, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC

Footprints

I wander. Endlessly, I wander. Ceaselessly, I walk. Forever more, I go on. How many ways can I depict my unrest to you? Footprints are the timeline of my life. Where I’ve been, the mistakes and wrong turns I’ve made. The people who have walked in. The people who have walked out. They are etched in the ground, broken in by my feet. Every so often, a second set of footprints joins mine. Some go on for months, years. Those are my favorites. But they never really last. Most dip in and out of my path. Some lead me in circles until I have to leave them behind. You never know what steps are the right ones Until you’re looking back at them, behind you. I wander. I search. I trust. And then, I hurt. Of these steps I am sometimes wary, But the set of prints next to mine makes me sure footed, now. I squint to look ahead, but my vision is terrible. I can’t be sure, but it seems that there are many sets of prints ahead. Strong, deep, sure-footed paths are carved out in the future. Please, take me there. Please, do not lead me astray. I don’t want to have look back to judge the way you stroll by my side. Do not waiver now; I haven’t got time for circles any longer.

31

Nightmares. I hate them. They keep me awake, They torture me. They won’t let me wake up. “Sleep! Sleep!” they say. “Stay awake! Watch out!” they taunt. So tired…. I’m falling…it’s so dark. I grasp air, scramble for a hold. I find it! I scrape my hands and hit my leg The jolt and the pain wakes me again. I can’t sleep. It’s not safe in the dark Ah! I can’t stand the light Nightmares…Dammit! I hate them! My dearest, yes, that’s it. My darling! My love, he keeps me safe. He’ll talk to me; comfort! No, he’s sleeping. I cannot bother him. Sleep. Nightmares. Falling…. No! My love…yes, there it is. He’s so warm, I can feel it now. Mmm, my darling; he will not let me fall. He will always hold on Despite myself, despite my temper Despite my rants, despite my antics. Through all the…the… Anger! Frustration! Overexcitement and Fear! Distress and worry! Paranoia! **** those nightmares! I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I just…. So much feeling. I get… Jumbled. I get… Mixed up? I don’t know He helps me. Holds me. Loves me, even. How? I cry and scream, I back away, He follows. I’m sorry. I just get so jumbled. He holds me. I’m so tired… Sleep, oh sleep…. I close my eyes And I’m falling. It’s so dark, hands are grabbing for me. The light, I want to find it But I can’t! I’m being Chased. ****** Nightmares, I hate them! Why can’t they be quiet, go away… SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! I’m so tired I just I Get so Jumbled. Up and Up and Up And I can’t stop I’ll fall. The light, why is it so bright? Nightmares, voices, people, monsters Get away all of you! No, Not you. I need you, don’t go Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s the nightmares I feel like I’m falling, Like I’m being chased These things, they’re everywhere, And the light, it’s too bright And I get so jumbled I can’t help it. I’m so tired. “Sleep! Sleep!” “Stay awake! Watch out!” Will the taunting ever end? Darling…wake up…. I can’t wake up. I’m being chased I can’t stop, or else I’ll fall.

0

May 19, 2014

May 19, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC

Nightmares

Nightmares. I hate them. They keep me awake, They torture me. They won’t let me wake up. “Sleep! Sleep!” they say. “Stay awake! Watch out!” they taunt. So tired…. I’m falling…it’s so dark. I grasp air, scramble for a hold. I find it! I scrape my hands and hit my leg The jolt and the pain wakes me again. I can’t sleep. It’s not safe in the dark Ah! I can’t stand the light Nightmares…Dammit! I hate them! My dearest, yes, that’s it. My darling! My love, he keeps me safe. He’ll talk to me; comfort! No, he’s sleeping. I cannot bother him. Sleep. Nightmares. Falling…. No! My love…yes, there it is. He’s so warm, I can feel it now. Mmm, my darling; he will not let me fall. He will always hold on Despite myself, despite my temper Despite my rants, despite my antics. Through all the…the… Anger! Frustration! Overexcitement and Fear! Distress and worry! Paranoia! **** those nightmares! I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I just…. So much feeling. I get… Jumbled. I get… Mixed up? I don’t know He helps me. Holds me. Loves me, even. How? I cry and scream, I back away, He follows. I’m sorry. I just get so jumbled. He holds me. I’m so tired… Sleep, oh sleep…. I close my eyes And I’m falling. It’s so dark, hands are grabbing for me. The light, I want to find it But I can’t! I’m being Chased. ****** Nightmares, I hate them! Why can’t they be quiet, go away… SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! I’m so tired I just I Get so Jumbled. Up and Up and Up And I can’t stop I’ll fall. The light, why is it so bright? Nightmares, voices, people, monsters Get away all of you! No, Not you. I need you, don’t go Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s the nightmares I feel like I’m falling, Like I’m being chased These things, they’re everywhere, And the light, it’s too bright And I get so jumbled I can’t help it. I’m so tired. “Sleep! Sleep!” “Stay awake! Watch out!” Will the taunting ever end? Darling…wake up…. I can’t wake up. I’m being chased I can’t stop, or else I’ll fall.

105

You found me. You're so clever, You're so mysterious, So cunning and coy. You hide and sneak, Laugh and giggle. You grin with knowledge And my lack thereof. But I have the real secret, I'm sly and crafty, Sneaky and hidden In my openness and observations. More so because my secrets, stay secret... I know you better Than you may believe. I love you more Than you can understand. So I will stay hidden In my open observations. I will stay and silent My crafty cleverness. I want to be a secret. You are my secret. I'll be your's. You found me.

0

May 19, 2014

May 19, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC

Unpublished

You found me. You're so clever, You're so mysterious, So cunning and coy. You hide and sneak, Laugh and giggle. You grin with knowledge And my lack thereof. But I have the real secret, I'm sly and crafty, Sneaky and hidden In my openness and observations. More so because my secrets, stay secret... I know you better Than you may believe. I love you more Than you can understand. So I will stay hidden In my open observations. I will stay and silent My crafty cleverness. I want to be a secret. You are my secret. I'll be your's. You found me.

26

Speed The rapidity in moving or proceeding Swiftness Rate of motion or progress Full MAXIMUM Optimum rate of motion It’s all been SO fast We've made SO much progress In SO VERY little time This is our optimal rate of motion 6 months 181 days 4344 hours 15638400 seconds Our season of love thus far Countless kisses Hundreds of pricele$$ moments ENDLESS “I love you”s And it only goes on from here I can’t wait to see it A L L to breathe in every moment to feel every luscious touch to taste every sweet kiss to hear every way you say my name, like no one else does SO stick around Let us watch this relationship Blossom, progress, grow, Speed Together, my love

0

May 19, 2014

May 19, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC

Together, my love.

Speed The rapidity in moving or proceeding Swiftness Rate of motion or progress Full MAXIMUM Optimum rate of motion It’s all been SO fast We've made SO much progress In SO VERY little time This is our optimal rate of motion 6 months 181 days 4344 hours 15638400 seconds Our season of love thus far Countless kisses Hundreds of pricele$$ moments ENDLESS “I love you”s And it only goes on from here I can’t wait to see it A L L to breathe in every moment to feel every luscious touch to taste every sweet kiss to hear every way you say my name, like no one else does SO stick around Let us watch this relationship Blossom, progress, grow, Speed Together, my love

30