It slowly continues to argue with me day in and day out.
Like a creep following in the shadows,
it decides to elude me no matter how I feel.

As the mandolin plays its sad tune,
and the guitar only remembers the sound of minor chords,
the melancholy erodes the wall that has protected the people since birth.

Taking its time to analyze and devise,
making plans and biding its time.
The edge defines the lie that it says is inside.

Maybe the next ship will take me along.
Maybe it will sail farther away than the last one.
Maybe its anchor will drop on more pleasant shores.

As I scream at the city that has been my home for so long,
As I stare into its ugly face,
I no longer know which way to go.

Do I go to the harbor and board the boat?
Do I search for my creeper in the alleys and roads?
Or do I stay where I am and take heart to the fact that I am still taking breath?

Why are you staying by my side?
You should go.
Why are you still waiting with me in line?
Don't you have better places to be?

When the night is angry and the clouds block out the moon,
I wonder if it will find me?
When the weather is sour and the day looks like the night,
I wonder if it will find me?

Anyway, I choose you, stay by my side.
Any path I take you have loved me despite the tide.
Any time I wept you were there with me and you cried.

Why do you stay when I am in the fray,
When my anxiety shoots you like a gun,
or when my anger manifests and stabs you like a knife?

I look over my shoulder and the creeper is there.
Always ten paces behind no matter which way I twist and I turn.

I look over my shoulder and I see you coming up beside.
You're reaching for my hand and telling me to trust.

I close my eyes and let you guide me to where I should go.
I release any semblance of control.

The sun finally breaks the clouds and the creeper steps aside.
Still, ten paces behind but comfort are by my side.
The sun brightens my face and I begin to cry.
For the night was long and the day has finally come.

The day is finally the day,
and I can see the bay.
The boat is right where I left it.
I look to you and you say it's okay.
So we take our steps and board the boat looking for better shores where we can play.

I can't believe that life is life.
I can't believe we are allowed to dive into this world where we live.
I can't believe I can take a breath every day and come out swinging.
I can't believe that in the future I might capture someone's heart.

I can't believe that one day I will be able to cuddle in close.
I can't believe that one day a touch, a shiver, a model of heavenly love will be next to me.
I can't believe that I am allowed to write about this, that my hands are free to practice their dexterity.
One day I will use them to their full potential.
I can't believe that today is not that day.

My arms will one day reach out for a hand.
A hand to dance close to.
Feeling the movement of the music and using her heart as the beat.
Cheeks slightly flushed from the moment, skin soft to the touch.
A warmth overtaking my body in the knowledge of the present event at hand.
I can't believe that today is not that day.

Lips that slightly part.
An approach going ninety and hoping they receive you and go the other ten.
Lips slightly apart.
Hearts beating a little bit faster, goosebumps cascading over limbs.
Lips slightly apart, waiting for this to be our last first kiss.
I can't believe that day is not today.

Walks hand in hand, listening to the music that we both agreed upon.
Walks hand in hand arguing over what music will be played.
Walking hand in hand making decisions together, making them with Heaven on the mind.
Walking hand in hand in the dark torment of my soul, letting her know I am inside of my head more often than not.
I can't believe that today is not that day.

I can't believe that life is life.
I can't believe we are allowed to dive into this world where we live.
I can't believe I can take a breath every day and come out swinging.
I can't believe that in the future, I might capture someone's heart.

First encounter, movement, bass lines, and drums.
A string quartet for the cheesy one.
Rhythm sections and complimentary instrumentation just going with the flow.
For the mistakes of live music is what makes it beautiful.

And girl when I find you it is going to be beautiful.
Making music and making love.
Tracking the guitars across your abs.
Drinking coffee too late at night.
Sharing the thoughts I'm too scared to tell anyone except for God.

I can judge too much.
I can be set in my ways, and change is hard for me.
I'm going to make you crazy, my anxiety is going to get in the way.
But I can't believe that one day you will be there to handle me.
And I will be there for you.

Video games, and board games.
Movies, music, and tv too.
Reading books together and apart.
Being with friends and enjoying the moments apart.
Coming back together to keep moving past the start.

I can't believe I'm entertaining these thoughts.
I can't believe I'm allowed to doubt.
I really can't believe that I'm allowed to believe.
To believe in love, ***, and dreams.
To believe in warmth, security, and truth.
To believe in all the things that make me, me.

I can't believe that life is life.
I can't believe we are allowed to dive into this world where we live.
I can't believe I can take a breath every day and come out swinging.
I can't believe that in the future, I might capture someone's heart.

I can't believe that one day I will be able to cuddle in close.
I can't believe that one day a touch, a shiver, a model of heavenly love will be next to me.
I can't believe that I am allowed to write about this, that my hands are free to practice their dexterity.
One day I will use them to their full potential.
I can't believe that today is not that day.

When fear comes in like a thief in the night,
When it grips your throat and lifts you up out of bed,
When your wandering eyes glimpse what your heart has been desiring for months,
When you give in to the temptation instead of looking to the breaker of chains,
This is when your faith is tested, this is when you see how weak you really are.

I sat and I listened.
I sat and I read.
I sat and I determined that I don't like being alone with my thoughts.
I sat and I realized I am scared of my own inner voice.

It caused me to remember past mistakes I wish were not in my head.
It caused me to miss someone even more than I already do.
It made me realize I am not dependent on my maker enough.
But at the same time what is enough?

Can you love enough?
Can you pray enough?
Can you read enough?
Are we ever enough?

In this world we are going to make mistakes.
We are going to hide from the ones we love.
We are going to be present and listen to them.
In this world, it is a dichotomy of light and dark.

When the fear comes and when it takes hold, what do I do?
Do I sway to the left or do I sway to the right?
Which side is the correct path?
Is either way correct?
Do I just need to sit, listen, and pray?

When I enter into the presence, I hope it is enough.
For when I pray those uneven, and negative thoughts creep in.
I get too scared to pray, I get too scared of change.
I am scared of these thoughts, I am scared that they will never go away.

It's *****,
It's messy,
It's a time where sin takes your faith hostage,
But at the same time, it strengthens your faith and requires you to quiet your soul.

Uneven, broken, failures, and grief.
Hope, joy, and relief.
A mix of who I am who I want to be.
A love that passes all understanding,
One that can cure the wound that doesn't seem to ever get clean.

I moved a year ago today.
I moved because I had a girl who I kissed and hugged after a nap.
It was beautiful and I was warm.
I moved a year ago today to marry that girl.
But here I am wondering why God made it work out this way?

Am I vindicated in my loneliness?
Is the hurt that laces my veins worth it?
Is it time to forge forward and dictate all of this to prior events and let it all pass?
Because I know that it will happen one day, but right now my Heaven is my past.

The warmth slowly dissipated and the negatives became the norm.
I made mistakes that I knew I was making while they left my mouth.
I took on stances just to be right.
And my vices intensified despite my soul getting closer to the light.

I have moved closer to Hell while seeing more of Heavens' eyes.
I miss the warmth and the skin that I used to snuggle up next to mine.
My eyes see this as my personal anti absolution.
Or as I like to call it my personal Hell.

I moved a year ago today.
I moved because I felt God pulling me this way.
But now I don't know if it was Him or my own personal will?
For she is gone and Heaven has been tainted.

I wanted to be one so bad that it clouded my Heaven and diverted it to this Hell.
Did I lose my will to be me because I desired something that is always going to be beyond my influence?
For it is not my will that takes precedent, but God's.
So here I am wondering if God will make it work out today?

I was a man who clung to that which he loved.
To a family that he loved, the one that he wished he was still apart of.
Now I am clinging onto hope, to God.
To insecurities, to pain, to guilt.
I was a man who only had memories connected to the family that almost was.
Now I am trying to forge my own memories that are connected to me.

I wish naps ended with the waking to my one.
I hope God sees it in him to let this happen again.
I'm sick of searching.
I'm sick of being vulnerable to those who won't last.

I want to be one, with the correct one.
I want to be vulnerable again.
But I want it to be the last time.
God, what is the desire of my heart?
God let it be this.

I moved one year ago today.
Maybe a year from now I will wake up from a nap and see my one in my arms as I lay.

When it hurts it hurts.
When sadness grips my throat I let it linger.
I let the breath in my lungs dissipate.
Because why does it matter?

When it hurts it hurts.
When the air is leaving my body and memories flood in,
I don't care if I have no air.
The next best thing is the death of the old.

But the problem is whenever it dies and I have "Moved on" it's a lie.
I get dragged back in.
I somehow get breath back in my lungs.
And the past comes back to life.

Today was one of those days.
A photograph was found,
A feeling was ignored,
A day of hurt pursued.

When it hurts it hurts.
When the past is found
When the past is relived.
**** me and the edge that I get to.

I see over the cliff.
I see over the precipice.
I take the leap over and over again, but I keep ending up right where I started.
The past won't ******* die.

When it hurts it hurts,
And guess what?
Right now, in this moment,
It ******* hurts.

Sorry, mom and dad
Sorry, sensitive folks.
Sorry, for writing this down and putting it out in the world.
But right now I don't care.

I'll tag it explicit.
I'll tag it adults only.
But guess what?
Life is explicit even if you don't swear.

Because when it hurts it hurts.
When the truth is laid out before you, don't run from it.
Embrace the truth, the pain, the misery, the sadness.
Even if you try to ignore it, you can't.
Because when it HURTS it HURTS.

I want her back
I don't want to move on.

I don't want her back.
I want to move on.

I'll probably be better tomorrow.
But who knows?
I sure as Hell don't.
What I do know...

What I do know...

Sorry for the repeat I was really trying to find something to say there.

Oh I remember...

When it hurts it hurts.
Let me be,
Let me feel,
Let me not be home,
Let me be far away.

God, when it hurts it hurts and you understand.
God, when those photographs find their way to my eyes let me hurt.
It's not wrong to feel the way you feel.
I'm allowed to be sad.
Even if every fiber of my being is ashamed I haven't moved on.

When it hurts it hurts.
Let it be.
Leave me be.
Leave it where it is, so I can see.  


Answer me, God.
Why won't you answer me?
What have I done that has caused your face to be turned away?
Answer me, my God.

My Lord, why have you forsaken me?
In this hour of need, I cry out in empty rooms.
In this hour, I cry to empty skies.
My Lord, my God why have you forsaken me?

Are you alive?
Do you still listen to prayers?
Do you still listen to your people?
Are we allowed to ask and receive?

God is your eyes still fixed on this nauseated land?
Do you still have ears to hear when we call?
Are you alive?
Are we worth listening to anymore?

My hands clasps books and philosophy trying to understand.
My feet walk in nature trying to see the beauty of your creation.
I don't understand why you say you love me.
I don't understand how this applies to those around me.

Answer me, God...
This silence is killing me.

Searching my thoughts for anything of substance.
Looking over my shoulder, wondering why it always feels like there is a shadow looming.
A presence that never gets much closer but is always there.
I hear the whispers it spews, and sometimes I believe them.

A laugh comes into the back of my mind.
A solid feeling that is anything but joy.
But a laugh escapes nonetheless.
It is then answered with a tinge of anxiety threatening to never go away.

The search continues, the failures pile up.
Grasping for one thing that feels like a win.
Trying to turn my own thoughts into bullets to shoot this empty heart.
Load the gun, I'm going to war.

I'm extracting the child in me who has been lost.
I'm hunting shadows that lurk in the woods.
I'm targeting the very nature of my soul.
Shoot to **** or nothing at all.

I'm pointing the gun and resting my finger on the trigger.
I'm ready to pull it.
I'm ready to find out if these bullets are enough to win this fight.
I take a step forward...BANG...Thump...

There's a light shining down on me and I keep seeing the faces of those I loved.
I hear crying and laughter.
Violens play sad songs and the sad songs are said to be a celebration of the soul.
Then I feel like I am being lowered down, and the world goes dark once more.

Tomorrow I'll try again.
Tomorrow I'll check my left and right before stepping forward.
But how can there be a tomorrow?
I feel a tap on my shoulder...

My skin turns into 60 grit sandpaper.
I hold my breath and I begin to feel cold.
The tap becomes a hand resting on my body.
My spine tingles and I feel breath in my ear.

The whisper is closer than ever before.
Who knew a shadow could touch you.
Who knew hope could turn so sour.
If I get out of this; tomorrow, I will put my time to better use.

We have an opportunity to take this one step at a time.
To move our feet, left then right then left then right.
We can be optimistic even when our steps are moving backward.
We have an opportunity to take this one movement at a time.

You see it is like this...
We are at a threshold where our minds and our hearts are trying to find a bridge to one another.
But the way forward has fallen into the ravine.
It has been rebuilt several times, but it keeps crumbling beneath our feet.

You see it is like this...
We have an opportunity to take a leap of faith.
We have a chance to walk over the invisible bridge.

Let's shift this to a more personal level.
Let's examine my heart for a little bit.
A little selfish I know, but my brokenness is something I guess I like to share.
My brokenness is something that could inspire hope.

I believe in a Love that transcends time and space.
I believe in forgiveness that leads me to reconcile those who don't deserve it.
I believe in a Love that helps me forgive others who have hurt me.
I believe in a heart that beats and makes me realize that I am still alive.

Is it fine to share the innermost secrets of my heart?
I don't know.
It could go either way.
Well, let's dive into it, shall we?

I am a control freak, I want it to go my way.
I have hurt someone close because this tension has not been let go.
I didn't look out into the valley and walk by faith.
I did it my way and used God as a crutch to justify my unjust judgment.
I am not a man who likes to be alone with his thoughts too long.

I am a liar.
I am a thief.
I am a murderer.
I am not worthy of the forgiveness that Love presents to me.

But here we are.
But here we lay.
In the mud, I find my home, but one day that mud will be wiped away.
One day I will walk across that invisible bridge to a land where I am meant to be.

A land where Love has a form.
A land where hope is not just a feeling, but where I can grasp it and see it.
A Land where borders are torn down and we are all one.
A land where Love has made my body clean.

We have an opportunity to take this one step at a time.
To move our feet, left then right then left then right.
We can be optimistic even when our steps are moving backward.
We have an opportunity to take this one movement at a time.

This road before us might take years to go through.
Maybe we must take paths we never knew were there.
We might need to grow new trees along different paths to remember where we have been.
We might need to forgive those who may never care or know we have forgiven them.

Love light my path.
Love help me to cross the invisible bridge.
Love teach me how to forgive.
Love teach me how to walk with one foot in front of the other.
Love when I die, I want to keep moving on.

I guess it is time to find something to look forward to.
I guess it is time to be reminded that not everything is falling off the edge.
I guess it is time to tap into hope.

I Guess... I Guess...

It is more than a feeling that I seek today.
I look forward to the time when I choose to be happy more than I choose to be sad.
A simplistic, cliche statement that speaks dividends to the current mental state of myself and others.
We look inside of ourselves and choose to look at the nuggets of despair that are over there,
Instead of looking at the joy that is on the other side.

I Guess... I Guess...

Life is more worthy of repeating than closing.
Doors that open might be more intriguing, but sometimes revisiting past failures can make you stronger.
But make sure not to dwell too long.
Balance the doors that are new and the ones that used to be present for you.

I Guess... I Guess...

Hope is a choice.
Hope can provide peace.
What do we put our hope in?
Where do our eyes rest upon when we look up to the stars in the sky?

Who provides us our daily bread?
Who irrigates our bodies with life?
Where do we put our faith in when the times decide to derail us off the tracks?
Where does the child go when they no longer have the bread they need?

When we gather up the provisions we need, do we take too much?
When we grab the stars do we take too many?
Are we using hope to fuel the fear that is festering deep inside?
When the stars are shining are we the ones snuffing them out?

I Guess... I Guess...

The time has come to choose true hope over falsified documents.
The time has come to let faith be a guide.
The time has come to stop hoarding the stars and take just what I need.
(I wonder what else I need?)
The time has come to take someone else's hand just to comfort them.
To show love and to choose love.
To choose life over death.
To show hope to choose hope.  

I Guess... I Guess...

I want more than a fine feeling.
I want more than a horoscope peace.
I want more than a past that I'm ashamed of.
I want more than a degenerating hope in things that will never give me joy.

I guess it is time to find something to look forward to.
I guess it is time to be reminded that not everything is falling off the edge.
I guess it is time to tap into hope

I Guess... I Guess...

I am lost, but I am too scared to be found...

It berates the ears and resonates louder and louder,
As it continues to cooperate with one another.
It lets the noise bounce back and become even louder.
Drowning out all that is clear,
Drowning out all the good that has been building up over the years.

DROP, DROP, DROP, globules cascading down in rhythm with the problem at hand.
Gripping tighter and tighter strangling out the PLAN.
Wishing that the water would at least fall on someone else,
But it keeps moving over my head, dropping the wet when the skies are clear.

This water is louder when the sun draws near.
The voices get louder when light pierces through the dark.
TAP, TAP, TAP, goes the drum inside of my head.
But the tapping is not enough to drown you out when you are together.

I am done.
I am finished.
I am passed up for things that I would love to do.
I am passed up for things that could be good for me.

I am a glorified babysitter.
Watching and never acting.
Being disrupted all day long, when I'm just trying to help.
The voices destroying the inner circle of my soul.

As it passes me by.
As the jealousy unfolds.
Wishing that it would break down, or the opportunity would present itself to me as well.
I am falling down, crying, tearing at my skin, hoping for the EXHAUSTION to go away.

And then it crawls down the spine.
Inserting needles in every vertebra.
Wanting to trigger the nerves, in its own sadistic way.
PINCH, PINCH, PINCH goes the needle over and under the skin.

It warps the images of goodness into a platoon,
A platoon of soldiers, whose only goal is to **** steal and destroy.
As I stare up to my Father asking, "Will today be the day?"
DROP, TAP, PINCH the water hitting his hand that he uses on the drum stick to plunge the needle deep.

This noise loves to make its home inside my head.
The venom crawling up through my back and weighing me down like lead.
Distorting my views and asking me to change lanes.
A vice that forms from blood clots in my brain.

I am done.
I am finished.
I just want a moment to breathe in some good.
I just want to look forward to what's ahead.
DROP, DROP, DROP

Maybe there is still a hope that is deep inside.
Maybe there is a place where love is found.
Maybe there is still a pull towards a life worth mentioning here.
Maybe there is an island where I can go and come back to life.

Is everything okay?
Is there a rope that keeps me connected to you?
Has it been severed and have I been let go?
Has this cloth fully been sliced, or is there a thread still hanging on?

Maybe there is a hope that I can find in the night.
Where the darkness enters the light and doesn't get extinguished.
Maybe there is a longing to keep holding on.
Maybe I am not fully understood by the monsters in the dark.

Is everything okay?
Is there a moment that keeps me connected to you?
Has the ocean washed it back into the salt?
What was once a comfort and joy is counted as lost.

And what of it?
What does it matter that I have been fired from my duties?
Told to eff off and that everything was my fault.
When it takes two to tango, has the hope been drowned under my dried soul.

And what of it?
What does it matter that my lungs are contracting faster and faster?
Told that everything will get better and trying to believe it.
When it takes one to tango because the other no longer wants you to lead.

Has hope been severed?
Has love increased inside this shriveled man?
And what of it?
Does it matter?
Do I matter?

Maybe there is a way out.
Maybe the end will justify the present exclusion of joy.
Maybe just maybe the hurt will wash off into the sea.
Where the salt will purify it and one day I will be home.

Will I find a place where I belong?
Will anything make sense in this city of lost dreams and jokes?
Will I understand why I have been placed in this concrete prison?
Only time will tell.

Maybe there is still a hope that is deep inside.
Maybe there is a place where love is found.
Maybe there is a wave in the ocean that will bring me back home.
Maybe there is an island where I can go and come back to life.

Until I find it... I'll be here.
Until I find it... I'll learn to carry on.
Until then...
Until what?
Maybe I give up...
I'm...
Tired...