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She asked me
where I get these ideas,
and I told her
it's things I care about
that just come to head.
But sometimes I wonder
if I'm the poet I say I am,
or if I really can
express how I want to help people,
because I waste my time writing instead.

He told me
I'm a godly man.
But you don't know my brain
the way you know my game;
you don't know my pain
the way you know my name.
You and I, man, we have
simular hearts.
Correlative stories, in a way, just
different parts.
Because I know what's going through
your head.
You put on an affectation but in your mind
there's a war instead.

Doubt.
Deep seeded self ambiguity.
Creeps in my conscious,
conjuring my fears.
Keeps me up at night.
My mind wanders,
I ponder my failures.
Fuels my dormancy.
It's the testing of my faith, I know.
I know the truth, then why am I guessing?
As if I forgot that I am set apart.
But still I feel like I'm less than,
ignoring my blessings.
I have been given His Word as
my protection.
I have been called to be His ambassador.
I'm His beautiful possession.
So Lord,
please do not forget about me
when I doubt you,
because honestly,
I'm no good without You.
Hannah Christina Aug 2018
There's a reason why I'm doing this
Somewhere, somehow
I set off with a passion and a purpose
That seems so long ago.
I decided it was worth it, not to wither into a selfish nothing
To surge on, keep on grappling
but I've almost had enough
and I'm
just
so
tired
.
When will I find the spark again?
I have some faith that
an ember of the passion I lost
still exists
somewhere between my lungs and beneath my ribs
Can my faith be ever enough?
May I find out.
I found out they the name of the place the heart is located is a " thoracic compartment called the mediastinum" but decided using that phrase would have been a bit much to use here.

Maybe another day.
Hannah Christina Aug 2018
Now I take the long way home most nights
a few extra minutes for back roads and quiet
the first turn faces me directly away from home
and in the darkness I cruise straight down a beautiful road to nowhere
off
and
away
and I am a free, flying runaway
for only a minute
before dutifully turning left.
at that intersection
my eyes always linger straight ahead, on my road to nowhere and anywhere
I could stay on this path and not look back
leaving everything
to be alone

But already I have involuntarily pulled into the turn lane.
My blinker is on, and so there is no way out of it.
I will go back home like I should.  
What
was I thinking?
My home is nice.  My life is good.  
There
is nothing
to run away from.
but maybe...
is there something is worth running to?
There are several books inside my mind,
one of which is a turning tide.
There are many rooms inside my dreams,
one where I balance on ceiling beams.
There are a couple bookshelves in my head,
one that hangs merely by a thread.

I have instances in my reality,
where I hold my breath cowardly.
I have a voice inside me, disguised,
that says I am a mad man and lies.
I have moments that tear me down,
so I fall and drown.

I have a God who fights my battles,
but still my head spins and rattles.
I've developed a tendency to do my own doing,
and that's why my fears are moving.
They move through the night out of sight.
But in reality, my hope is never losing.
Sometimes I'm able to let things get in the way of God. I even can let the artistic gifts God has given me take up more time that I read the Bible and pray, and even something so silly as that can give Satan a foothold and I can stray away from God. But praise Him for always being there for me to turn back to, for always loving me even when I doubt Him!

Shoutout to Hannah Christina S for the title of this poem, because before I couldn't think of one. Thank you, Hannah, and thanks for the inpirational comment
Hannah Christina Aug 2018
Too much, too fast.
Breathless at a stoplight.
change
fast
must
go
I HAVE NO TIME
everything/everything/today/tomorrow
Always with the rushing, barely feeling, barely knowing where I am.

Now there's nothing.

It's a break, slow and stale.
What do I do?
There are four or five things maybe but none feel right and I can't bring myself to move.
I try one thing,
then another.
No drive,
meaning,
purpose,
feeling.
Not even my eyes can focus on anything.
Skipping, blinking, nothing.
Slow.

Give me back the whirlwind, or give me gravelike nothing.
Nothing is right.
I need power to feel and peace to fight or I am already dead.
Please.
I'm trusting You.
Please.
Thanks so much for reading, it means a lot.

Honestly, I'm not feeling much better for the moment.  Things were getting a bit slow this afternoon and the Gravelike paragraph applied for like two hours, but I pulled myself out of it and I'm okay now.  Let's see how long the feeling of well being lasts this time...
It showed on their face.

The rides were fun
but they were breathless.

From the cable car
the sky seemed not that far
and to the wind it was unfair
to have two men without much hair.

Rain had brought color to soft eyes
huddling and cuddling at free wills
but sought shelter these two guys
from the teen lovers' merry squeals.

They rushed to be in time for the first row
childishly enthralled by the 3D show
dipping the whole of their emotion
in the history of origin and evolution.

The day had been too soon done
when in the melted afternoon sun
the two forgot all the worries
in the romance of rediscoveries.
Amusement Park, June 24, 2018, 5pm
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