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you asked me
why i looked at you
like i used to
when we were tangled up in
each other
I looked at you like that
because the first time this started
everything that happened
was a twisted and sad expression
of a love i really had
but was obscured
and i then, when i looked at you,
remembered it, realized
that in holding back in choosing for you what i knew you wanted and needed -
in admitting that it wasnt me- i was doing what was best for you -
and in that moment i was the best lover i could ever be to you.
Butterfly beat your wings,
I’m eager for the storm it brings
Watch their gales shear hearts apart
But this is not cruelty; this is just your art
(all you want to do is fly)
Brother
shake up like the Romans did
check for weapons
because even though i trust you to fight with me
you can trust me to commit treachery
only we know it like we do. and its colorful. beautiful  for the colors. but sometimes difficult to keep painting and not be scared of what the next stroke in the masterpiece might look like.
and it looked like you left. But really you just turned left. ANd i had to keep on goin straight. HAd different places to be on different dates. Couldnt buy the tickets to the same train. Couldnt even hop one for free, couldnt keep you, or keep you tied to me. Things were different than that. You've got dreams and i had to see them from a step back. ANd to find my own. I did, and now i'm goin home. So ill buy another ticket, or forget and hop a traind for the mischief, the misadventure. The opportunity to be where others say i shouldnt,  do things in real life that others didnt, or couldnt. its really right where i should be. I get to be a little different. Choose life - choose to be free - even if that means a little or a lot of pain - even if it means poverty. Cant strap anything to myself when im headin down deep. Ill take the shovel and ill leave it at the foot of the tree. I won't dig up roots i will grow them. Far and wide , but still real deep. I'll climb cliffs that people think are too steep.
it's flattering in all the ways that i could fathom you could mean it
my seams, you have seen them,
and still you remember what they look like
it doesnt take me being talked into sending you naked pictures like i did you
for you to understand that sometimes, in the middle of the night, i wake up bare
looking for something, someone, alone, scared
to go home
because i dont know just where home is anymore

that occasionally, i arise with tick tock tears in my eyes
feeling like i am running out of time
like every time i have held my dreams in my hands they have fallen apart
simply to be replaced by  somewere else to start from
you know that i have turned countless treasures through these fingers
let each one slip through like grains of sand
my hands bacame an hour glass
and each one seems like just a sliver of quartz that has passed
shifting for its place to be taken
by grains that are shaken loose
by hopes for the words "i love you" to be true

See, i dont want this to end with me blind
i want to have learned my lesson
by the time that i feel my heart's last pressure
compression, spread through my chest
i want to have understood
that each piece of sand that slipped through was not a loss
but simply fragments of glass
falling into the haphazard mold
of the key
to the lock
that i had always been looking for
It was love, each one, each kind,
it was love that opened the fragile door
the glass, the glass, was not just shattered on the floor
mar.
I Dont have my own heart, Jesus does, I gave it to Him for safe keeping...

Well...the way I view it. (the way I fantasize it in my head)
is that I've given it away to Jesus until He sees fit to give it away for me...
because if I held my own heart to give away to whomever I please,
who knows where it would end up!
But He has always known who the person is I should give it to,
and that's why I have it to Him:
so I wouldn't give it away before I should.
..

this is an excerpt from **'s mind

In a sense yes,
but there are many layers of the heart.
The deepest parts
yes
He will always keep,
but some are meant to be shared
and yes,
given away...but in more in a sense of a trading of hearts...


No He doesn't want our porcelain hearts broken,
but maybe there's a beauty in Him allowing one to behold another's heart in a way..
.and then it's up to the holder to rely on God to help them care for and cherish it...
maybe God wants to see if the holder would be so selfless as to let Him continue holding it...
My brain thinks in strange ways sometimes.

you already are that selfless.

And as to the trading, the man is not the only holder of a heart. You should know this.

I believe you can, as long as you continue in your steadfast pursuit of God's heart.



I mean that yes, a woman gives her heart to a man,
but doesn't a man also give his heart to the woman?
So they are both charged with the responsibility
to care for and not break the other's heart.
But if they have both given their hearts to God,
then He puts them together
and it is then not even a creation of human design at all, but completely His.
And we have already voiced the desire for someone who wants the other to pursue and love God more than us.
That's probably a pretty hard thing to stick to...

We have the potential to do that. Just the fact that we have both voiced--of our own desires--that we want the other to love God more...it's so incredibly rare!
There is a certain uncertainty within me that i cannot quite identify. It is unsettling. I think it somehow connected with my dissatisfaction when it comes to the doctrine of universal-ism. I do believe that it is both true and fair that all men must be saved through the blood of the Lord- God -Jesus Christ,shed to reconcile man and God upon a cross at Calvary. I find  dissatisfying the idea that God would somehow choose what men go to hell and what men do not, and think even that If god were such a God, i would not want to be his son. I think it foolish to apply some philosophical extension of guilt to God, when God is guilty only of love, the creation of man and man's free will to love, and be loved. God is no more guilty of man's decisions to reject Christ than the father of a murderer is guilty of the blood of his son's ****** victims. Surely, there may seem to be some guilt, but there is no perpetration of violence or wrong, there is only adherence to nature. A man's nature to produce children, alongside the nature of a murderer to ****, result in due consequence. God's nature to love and to seek his own glory, and to magnify these qualities in the universe, alongside with man's nature to seek his own glory and interest, result in due consequence. Surely, you may say "God is more guilty because of his omniscience", but is he? I for one, were i to father a murderous child, would, despite his murderous nature , love him. I would not wish he did not exist. But what i would do, was wish that he had not perpetrated his murderous actions-  for my love for my son, and for my love for others, my compassion, and my humanity. This is much like God. He, though he knows there are those that are among his children who would be murderers, in a sense, killers of their own eternal souls through the rejection of Christ, persists in love and compassion for humanity through the creation of those humans. You may also say that there is some difference in that God chooses how he creates a man to be, whereas a father does not choose exactly the child he creates, so much as simply choosing to create. This, i will admit, is true.  But, i do not think constitutes the guilt of God in choosing. The reason is thus: ****** is indeed an act of free will. Free will is necessary unto love, that love does not  descend to become slavery. Love is the very nature of God, and though God is supreme in power, and has the ability to make any choice he chooses, choosing not to love would be contrary to the very being of God. This makes creating, even a murderer, an act of love, and an act much less of a choice than it may seem.

God is not guilty after all.
i suppose in one way, i desire to have your heart.
but it is and will always remain true that i am not the one who should hold it,
that as much as id like to be entrusted that much,
i shouldn't be, because at least in some small way, i would break it.?"

maybe he should never give it away..perhaps only allow it to be borrowed by careful hands...

it is that utmost obsession of his  -
that which he desires to show off to any who would avidly appreciate it -
as long as they did so whilst respecting it -
he doesn't want his prized heart to be chipped or broken -
and it - like all hearts - is porcelain brittle

not strange...
that...
that may just be the way in which a man can most beautifully experience the heart of another

i...wonder if i ever could be that selfless...
when i have wanted a heart for my own for so long...

I really don't believe I am..
and even if I am, the question then is can i consistently remain such?


i know God holds hearts...
and so can men..
.i do not know whether there is some counter intuitive phenomenon
in which a heart can be fully and equally held by more than one...
and as such im just rolling over how hearts work..
.or should work...
in the context of marriage and avoiding the tendency to
"seek to please ones spouse before god"
as will undoubtedly be the case for any man who marries any woman -
if not the enacting of
then the leaning towards



so-
the wrong question for the situation -
not -
who holds the hearts -
but who holds the HEART -
not the trading or the giving, but the merging and the making into a single entity
wholly dedicated to the pursuit of the higher and more beautiful realities of God

it is a nigh impossible feat and one that only God can perpetuate in any human being

one flesh indeed-
one body needs only have one heart
The wayward man, the wanderer, he with the restless feet , the inconsolable itch, the ever longer longing - he is every man. And i find, that this is due to our origin. We know we are meant for something more, different, better. We know that to be boxed in is death. To lose freedom is death. And we live in homes where we don't see the sun, and we are caged by everything we've ever been told, and everything we have ever thought about everything and anything. They all wrap together to the place of our thinking. Yes, there are redeemed men. Their chains lay broken open on the dirt. But they still stare at their chains. Knowing that in some way, they have not yet escaped the mark they have left. This is life. This is to be fallen. This is not what it was to be human. But this is what it is. We must move on. And in this life we will not escape it, but one day, we will arrive at home. For now, I am a fox with no hole - and to have the courage to keep seeking the sating of the hunger placed within me by the divine creator is greater than allowing my self to sit in prisons of my own making. Instead, when i dwell anywhere, i will fight to dwell in this.
applause
i crave them
there are but two hands
clap. clap. clapping


for me, stumbling through my dancing
for me, a man who's kept, and kept, trying
there was almost a second where i lost it
the i realized who was clapping
he was the man who wrote the music.
So have you ever wondered if you are the creator of your emotions? If they are only synthetic? If they are fabricated? and you are just making it all up as you feel?

I sometimes wish i wouldn't dream.

Have you ever wondered if what you feel could disappear in an instant? If you have ever really FELT anything?

It's a scary thought to think that reality is just some sort of a dance, a dance of puppets, in which i am the master of many and the minion of more.
I beat my chest like it's an oaken door
praying you'll crumble it to dust on the floor,
You said knock and you would open,
and i have been stuck  placing my trust in the hope that
Youve never been hard of hearing, that
you can shatter skies and ceilings
when I am consumed by what I'm feeling
or left empty without any passion
If I saw my life flashing before my eyes
the essence of my vision and my cries
the substance that is my sunlight
spilling over from the crucible of life
Is your name, your face, and your price
You died, but you live
And I am like a well when I am well plugged in
i overflow with the tadbit tastes of you and my head spins
I explode from my chest in Joy that steals my sleep
But I am more rested in the morning than when I sleep for a week
Truth boils inside of me begging to spill out,
and my tongue takes up courage to love words, and sing again, and shout
My soul is freed in vulnerability
When I am undone and refuse to nourish fears out of self protective instinct
You remind me, that they ripped everything away from you
your clothing - even your skin -
your viscera seen by any who dare scan the skyline
Tagged to trees of terrible purpose and beauty
as clear as the sign that mocked you  and the crowds that did it
You love even those who resent it-
Love I mean -
Your are the realest thing that's ever been.
The riders come on horseback strange
The days are coming; soon will change
The four horsemen that come in night
One pale, one dark, one red, one white
And each will bring a plague derange

Now listen well and preludes hear
The coming of the horsemen’s near
The blood of God, our only hope
The riders come…

The first is white and wields a bow
The second, red, is war we know
The third is black and steals our food
The last is pale and kills our brood
Each plague when comes will bring us woe
The riders come…
she moved like the shadow of water
moving with the waves on top of her
rolling my body against her
where our skin touches we lose our outlines
like water and its shadow
“The Silicon Tower of Babel”
The over utilization of technology, its abuse, is unweaving humanity at the seams. Human health, sanity, and spirituality are under attack. The boom of accessibility over technology has increasingly subtracted from the frequency of face to face human interaction as well as human interaction with nature. The result is a declining emotional and psychological health and a ******* of spiritual values. Each individual who values holistic health should limit the time he or she spends using technology that isolates them to less than twenty-four hours in a week. They should make more purposeful efforts toward interacting with nature daily and for periods of at least an hour at a time. Lastly, these individuals should labor to replace reclusive technologies with modes of technology that encourage face to face and group social interaction such as movies, Skype, etc.
Self-limitation of the use of isolating technology will begin to correct the twisting of our spiritual values and the social and physiological damage that has been caused by the overuse and abuse of technology. In James T. Bradley’s review of Joel Garreau’s book discussion of radical evolution, called “Odysseans of the twenty first century”, Bradley quotes Garreau when he says that technology will result in human transcendence. In “Odysseans” it is said that “The nature of transcendence will depend upon the character of that which is being transcended—that is, human nature.”  James. T Bradley, scholar and author of this peer reviewed journal says that “When we’re talking about transhumanism, we’re talking about transcending human nature. . .  One notion of transcendence is that you touch the face of God. Another version of transcendence is that you become God.”  This is a very blatant ******* of the roles of God and man. When the created believes it can attain the greatness of its creator, and reach excellence and greatness on par with its God, it has completely reversed the essence of spirituality. This results in the ability to justify the “moral evolution of humankind” according to Odysseans. And this “moral evolution” often results in “holy wars”. In “Man in the age of technology” by Umberto Galimberti of Milan, Italy, written for the Journal of Analytical Psychology in 2009, technology is revealed to be “no longer merely a tool for man’s use but the environment in which man undergoes modifications.” Man is no longer using technology. Man is no longer affecting and manipulating technology to subdue our environments. Technology is using, affecting, and manipulating the populace; it is subduing humankind into an altered psychological and spiritual state.
Technology, in a sense, becomes the spirituality or the populace. It replaces nature and the pure, technologically undefiled creation as the medium by which the common man attempts to reach the creator. The common man begins to believe in himself as the effector of his Godliness. Here there is logical disconnect. People come to believe that what they create can connect them to the being that created nature. They put aside nature and forget that it is an extension of the artist that created it. Technology removes man from nature (which would otherwise force an undeniable belief in a creator) and becomes a spiritual bypass. “According to “The Only Way Out Is Through: The Peril of Spiritual Bypass” by Cashwell, Bentley, and Yarborough, in a January 2007 issue of Counseling and Values, a scholarly and peer reviewed psychology journal, “Spiritual bypass occurs when a person attempts to heal psychological wounds at the spiritual level only and avoids the important (albeit often difficult and painful) work at the other levels, including the cognitive, physical, emotional, and interpersonal. When this occurs, spiritual practice is not integrated into the practical realm of the psyche and, as a result, personal development is less sophisticated than the spiritual practice (Welwood, 2000). Although researchers have not yet determined the prevalence of spiritual bypass, it is considered to be a common problem among those pursuing a spiritual path (Cashwell, Myers, & Shurts, 2004; Welwood, 1983). Common problems emerging from spiritual bypass include compulsive goodness, repression of undesirable or painful emotions, spiritual narcissism, extreme external locus of control, spiritual obsession or addiction, blind faith in charismatic leaders, abdication of personal responsibility, and social isolation.”  Reverting back to frequent indulgence in nature can begin to remedy these detrimental spiritual, social, and physiological effects.  If people as individuals would choose to daily spend at least an hour alone in nature, they would be healthier individuals overall.
  Technology is often viewed as social because of its informative qualities, but this is not the case when technologies make the message itself, and not the person behind the message, the focus.  To be information oriented is to forsake or inhibit social interaction.  Overuse of technology is less of an issue to human health if it is being overused in its truly social forms. Truly social forms of technology such as Skype and movies viewed in public and group settings are beneficial to societal and personal health. According to a peer-reviewed study conducted by John B. Nezlek, the amount and quality of one’s social interactions has a direct relationship to how positively one feels about one’s self. Individual happiness is supported by social activity.
Abuse of technology is a problem because it results in spiritual *******.  It points humanity toward believing that it can, by its own power, become like God.  Abuse of technology inclines humanity to believe that human thoughts are just as high as the thoughts of God. It is the silicon equivalent of the Tower of Babel.  It builds humanity up unto itself to become idols. In extreme cases overuse of technology may lead to such megalomania that some of humanity may come to believe that humanity is God.  Technology is a spiritual bypass, a cop-out to dealing with human inability and depravity. The misuse of technology results in emotional and psychological damage. It desensitizes and untethers the mind from the self. It causes identity crises. Corruption of technology from its innately neutral state into something that negatively affects the human race results in hollow social interactions, reclusion, inappropriate social responses, and inability to understand social dynamics efficiently.
It may appear to some that technology cannot be the cause of a large-scale social interrupt because technology is largely social. However, the nature of technology as a whole is primarily two things: It is informational; it is for use of entertainment. Informational technology changes the focus of interaction from the messenger to the message. Entertainment technology is, as a majority, of a reclusive nature.
Readers may be inclined to believe that nature is not foundational to spirituality and has little effect on one’s spiritual journey, it is best to look through history. Religions since the beginning of time have either focused on nature or incorporated nature into their beliefs. Animists believe that everything in nature has a spirit. Native American Indians like the Cherokee believe that nature is to be used but respected. They believe that nature is a gift from the Great Spirit; that earth is the source of life and all life owes respect to the earth. Christians believe that it is the handiwork of God, and a gift, to be subdued and used to support the growth and multiplication, the prosperity and abundance of the human race.
In a society that has lost touch with its natural surroundings it is sure that some believe that nature has little effect on health, as plenty of people live lives surrounded by cities and skyscrapers, never to set foot in a forest or on red clay and claim perfect health. However, even in the states of the least contact possible with nature, nature has an effect on human health. The amount of sunlight one is exposed to is a direct factor in the production of vitamin D. Vitamin D deficiency has been determined to be linked to an increased likelihood of contracting heart disease, and is a dominant factor in the onset of clinical depression. Nature has such a drastic effect on human health that the lack of changing season and sunlight can drive individuals to not only depression, but also suicide. This is demonstrated clearly when Alaska residents, who spend half a year at a time with little to no sunlight demonstrate a rate of suicide and clinical depression diagnoses remarkably higher than the national average.
Dependence on technology is engrained in our society, and to some the proposed solution may not seem feasible. They find the idea of so drastically limiting technology use imposing. They do not feel that they can occupy their time instead with a daily hour of indulgence in nature. For these individuals, try limiting isolating technology use to 72 hours a week, and indulging in nature only three times a week for thirty minutes. Feel free to choose reclusive technology over social technologies sometimes, but do not let technology dominate your life. Make conscious efforts to engage in regular social interactions for extended periods of time instead of playing Skyrim or Minecraft. Watch a movie with your family or Skype your friends. Use technology responsibly.
To remedy the effects of the abuse of technology and the isolations of humanity from nature, individuals should limit their reclusive technology use to 24 hours in a week’s time, indulge in nature for an hour daily, and choose to prefer truly social technologies over reclusive technologies as often as possible. In doing so, individuals will foster their own holistic health. They will build and strengthen face-to-face relationships. They will, untwist, reconstruct and rejuvenate their spirituality. They will be less likely to contract emotional or social disorders and will treat those they may already struggle with.  So seek your own health and wellbeing. Live long and prosper.
hat happened to what we used to be
when your smiles meant the world to me
and the skies danced for us
just to bring us happiness
what happened to our friendship and when
did the sky start falling

If my words ever even begin to mean a thing
If never is the day when the sky is pieced back together
I want you to know
that forever
you will always mean the world to me
i miss you
She has
eyes like the sky and aspirations to match
she says
"guys like to lie" and "I'm not a catch"
she is
only half right but
she could
never be farther from the truth
she will
one day touch the sky but first
she has to
lay down roots
water flows from your heart to mine
I am set on fire
Many waters cannot quench
this raging desire
I am being consumed
but here i stand,
renewed

you flow from my head to my feet
you drip from my hair past my cheek
soak through my skin and infiltrate my chest
I am set on fire
but it is here that i find rest

In the heart of the waterfall
I dance
motionless

In the heart of the waterfall
i am bathed by your hands

let me soak
in the song of the waterfall
let me sit still in the flames
i won't run at all
let me soak
in the song of the waterfall
i want your heart
i want it all
Fireflies danced across your cheek
your smile shined in the midnight heat
we talked for hours and shared a kiss before summer sleep
such dreams of happiness and senseless hopes for bliss
this my dear, is our summer
the one that has yet to exist
A tree whose roots lie deep within the earth
stabbed into the stone foundation of faith
a place of shadow - obscured and often miscalculated
whose leaves seek sunlight
and the warmth of glory
as they unfurl
from the trunk rooted in the past
from shadow to lightgrows the tree
especially when it catches fire
affections ,reflections of each other
columns in a cavern of glass
a room of mirrors
edges gracefully traced in my mind
each as much a picture of what i feel as the next
I begrudge no mirror what it reflects
I just, want you here, just like this.
Hell, what can i say,It's always been this way.
we connect randomly.(is this seat taken?)
break off.(stupid boy|girl segregation)
diverge. (across bus aisles)
recconnect. (hugs before you leave, subtle smiles)
risk.(hopped, hid, rode again in my seat those last few miles) .
create boundaries.(best friend, I'm with her, you're with him)
overstep(i daydream of you...)
overstep.(i dreamed of you last night...)
overstep (i dreamed of you last night again...)
recreate.(i ignore you when you speak, what was that last thing you said?)
walk on blind faith, a little too quickly.(we took two days to talk this over, two weeks to get into bed)
remember we are friends amidst all this ( i did)
and suddenly all the feelings, (or thoughts spinning in my head)
the ones that are thretening to surge freely through me, (undo me)
no restraint, (undid)
threating to take over my actions, my heart, my affections (am i mislead?)
(theyve already strangled my reason)(I'm brainless, because of you, undead)
experience a subtle but calming shift( smootheeee like thisssss)
when i remember(what we said)
I suddenly understand(this isn't wonderland)
why it is I don't want to leave(friends fight, we are friends)
you mean so much more to me(than i could even begin to express)
than emotions high arguing and a dozennn days ive cried( they are nothing compared to it)
you are my friend, (im beginning to think best)
and well, i just... i want you here, (just like this)
The wordless girl
she has a voice
It's spoken in
the way she moves
her eyes look so
absolutely hungry,
the sweep of
her tongue across her lips
even when she's silent
she moves her hips
against mine
making melodies
in time
to
rhythm
that feels
so wrong it's
rhyme
Just not my best friend anymore...
It just isn't so
But these vagabond feelings I feel
They just wont go
You've still got some ****** up hold
I think in how you left
You steal the feelings I wish I could feel
It's the worst kind of theft.
thought i was victorious but i couldnt keep a promise,
thought i was stronger but i never forsaw this
broke, broke it all, upon an alter of chaos
they, they think they've won, but they dont know what they've lost
i know im still alive, life is the last thing they can cost
ill fight, until all they are is dust
demons, go back into the past, you're crushed
she said she didn't mind hanging out
we had had plans
and then we had an argument
and so when she just "didn't mind"
i sure as hell did. it hurt. made me angry.
so i was trying to avoid her.
and i ran into her.
she came over to me - hugged me. said hello.
then she started avoiding me the very same day.
i wonder if for her that moment snapped something.
i wonder if she could even tell that i was in the middle of a panic attack
i wonder if she could tell that not only could i barely breathe when i hugged her
but that i choked back hot tears
only mostly successfully
a few leaked out
they were too heavy
Even I don’t know how I feel
Beyond words is what is real
The truth and life are in your eyes
A thousand mesmerizing cries
An angel’s voice falls from your lips
A wish a want a need a kiss
Peace and love in more than a touch
Your simple presence is more than enough
To know a friend is there and see
A friend in fall much more may be

Things change
I have been built and i have been broken,
I have spoke and I have left unspoken,
I have stood tall and fallen on my face,
I have been the pride of others and I've been disgrace,
I have held strong to home and I have wandered freely,
I have been a mess and a masterpiece,
I have hated myself and I have loved myself,
I have been me and I have been someone else.
Here I am thinking of you again
sometimes i can't get you out of my head
all i can do is think about you until
some ****** test demands my attention

then i hurry through
and daydream of being with you

Did you know that you are the person on earth that i am closest to?
You are. And i'm glad it's you.
Because I'm not sure
I could trust anyone the way i trust you
I will try.  I don't know that i will succeed.
To describe the things that went through my head.
I was there. And somehow i knew  turtle was beside me. but only for a second.
then he blinked out of existence.
and the sounds...they crashed together. they  became so loud that they were indistinguishable from one another.
then nothing. quiet.
only pictures.
pictures and questions.
remembrance.
i wondered why i was where i was.
i saw the succession of choices, mine and other,
that had placed me.
i wondered if it was the end of everything.
i was crushed by the subaru.
it flattened me into the ground and kept rolling.
but i was sure...that i was done.
everything...all of it...
pictures so quick their edges  werent in existence...
this.....amalgamation of my experience...
looped through with slivers of my dreams..
all ******* in the ideas of what i wanted to do
what i dreamed
what id do different
what i never got to do
who id leave behind
how  it was all my fault
how i cost them me,
how i would leave a void in them that nobody else could fill
it wasnt how i wanted to be rememebred...
but at least they wouldnt forget..
i became for some, what no others could be.
it wasnt much. it wasnt even enough.
id die with many regrets.
and id die young.
god i was young
what was i thinking
yes..i was stressed...but relief wasnt worth this
id go through a thousand days
a thousand times *******
if it meant i could have just one more..
not even a good one,
at all, any day would do
i understood my dad
any day above ground...
you know how the saying goes
i wondered if it was like this for him..
maybe not full of adrenaline...
but perhaps he relived his entire moment
as he slipped away
would i see him?
what was there?
i didnt see any light..
i didnt see anything for a minute..
i was so deep in my brain..
i was this kernel of thought curled up inside of my skull...
buried...beneath all else..
i shrunk....into almost nothing...
i faded....and then from blank,
back to seeing.
am i ...alive?
i...i was crushed..
i...am i bleeding?
can i breathe? is anything broken?
blood from my foot.
just there.
can i move?
i can move.
HELLLLLLLPPPP
HELLLLLPPPP
SOMEBODDDY HELLLLP
CALL 911!!!!!
BRENT.
where is he?
okay i was thrown out...
theres lights.
thats the car. check it.
is he in it?
is he trapped?
run down the mountain.
there are briars.
go around.
push through. just get there. doesnt matter if you get cut.
he isnt in here. unless hes under the cooler.
move the cooler.
okay he isnt in here.
where is he. i dont see him. was he throiwn?
call out.
i yell. nothing
wait.
a moan. which...down there.
there he is .
i see him.
diagnose.
can you move?
talk to me?
can you breathe?
is anythign broken?
are you breathing?
hes talkign in circles.
not good.
better than nott alking.
but someything is wrong.
i smell fish?
pat him down. feel for breaks.
can you walk?
let's get you out of the creek.  
up the hill.
we have to get out.
how.
i cant see a way.
some strangers are here. i dont know his name.
ask.
is 911 on the way?
good.
can they find us? how far?
where are we?
i dont know the area.
can you find a phone?
No medication,
What's my purpose in position?
What is this that I've been missin?
Keep on movin, keep forgettin
that I'm here and on a mission
feel a spark there in my chest
risin from my hollow breast
gotta get up take a chance
It won't burn out like the rest
I'm gonna
let it smolder, let it flame
let it build, give God the blame
he lit it - no one can **** it
no one can take the love that's in it,
let it blaze, let's let it roar
I'm breakin chains, get off the floor
been layin down and takin kicks
from myself, ignorin ticks
tellin me
I've been set free, I'm free indeed-
but free and lost and on my knees
why'm i dead here on my face
I've been too blind to too much grace
but heaven holds the healing
to the empty i've been feeling,
to the nothing i have felt,
to the hand that i've been dealt,
to the pain that I've been dealin with, well,
to the lies that Ive been tellin my self,
to all the things i fear to face
the answer is amazing grace
This is not a crutch.
This is the solution.
The answer to my mind I'm losin
Truth amidst the lies of hell that hurt holds.
Take time to stand still and Let my lord touch my soul.
Been walking with a dark understanding,
got too far and too demanding
thought my way was the best way,
think I'm losing it , think my chest may,
cave in, I'm lookin for the silver lining,
but i can't see past the ceiling,
tired of all the climbing,
I'm trying, but i can't keep looking up
need to feel like you're here beside me before i just give up

I **** self
daily I die at my own hands
I die that I may live more than any empty man
I AM! - what am I?
my - my hands - my hands lie,
why? - I  tell the truth - like to say at least i try
the- sky mocks me with its silence, you're listening and you've got this,
but my prayers hit the ozone
I have felt this way for so long.
I know you hear, i know that's real
but how can I, when I believe but I don't feel
I am numb. I hate your will.
I will
do whatever it is that this takes-
said the same words before but they were fake-
didn't feel them, I guess it was the same problem,
I mean they're vicious and God you know I've got em,
only you can heal em,
let me, love my self, so i can love somebody else,
make me love my enemy like i love my brother,
cleanse this tongue - if you can't - cut it out, I'll take another, mother -
mary she did't say much
saw the spear pierce, heard your flesh crunch,
watched you be battered and bruised, becoming broken and abused-
So i could feel you, know you
you know, live you, show you-
not like a coward- like a lion
sick of lyin sayin i'm dying, I'm not.
I'm livin. I'm livid.
Angry, called to be an extremist
but barely any action ecapes, as extreme as words extreme as this.
I am contradiction, confliction,
I am human.
Misconception
I had me but i lost me
stared at my reflection
inflection
in my voice
misguides your misdirection
mistakes
made by choice
a past without correction
this is my self infliction,
I am contradiction, confliction
i never learn my lesson.
i looked back for a moment
she shook her head her hair fluffed into a ball of ****
fluffy! !!!!!!!
i exclaimed grinning ear to ear
and then i thought about the night before when
she said she wanted to **** her self
my smile died and inside i died too
tears nearly came to my eyes
choked back only because of the crowd
i wish my friends could live and be happy
i wish my friends could live and be whole
Our enemies, or those who our government or our morals deem to be a threat - do not forget - they too believe they are right, they too would fight and die for their cause, "they" are just like "us. War, for any reason is a tragedy. Sadly, there will not be peace until all people want it at the same time and in the same way. And sadly, it is unlikely that all people will find themselves in these circumstances necessary for peace.Oh, that somehow our creedo would be freedom, and not power! That freedom or morality will never be used as a thin veil to justify a war in which the true goal is greed! May wars be fought for life, so that thought they cost so much death, some good may come of them. Self preservation is a right. Mercy when possible, that we may sleep at night.
I never was quiet when i tiptoed
past your pivotal emotions
and maybe
maybe it wasn't always "on accident" I "mis-stepped"
maybe
maybe I did use my silver tongue like a sword
to willfully slice you to ribbons
Maybe i posted poetry that sentenced you to
less than ignorant bliss
of your own actions and their effects
Fault me.
Fault me because I've still never lied to you.
Fault me because even when i tiptoed around the truth  
I was kicking you in the face, in the chest, and in the senseless ego,
In all the comfort that you'd expected me to allow you when you ripped mine from my hungry hands
and i kicked you with my words, some might say while you were down
But my words were the truth.  
And the truth hurts.
Never understood
never was fake enough to pretend i could
begin to believe what a doubter would
not be able to, i'm aching to
laugh when you say it's breaking you
because you walk like you're the princess i was begging you to be to me
painted smile, fake face - it's just diplomacy
give the public what they want to see even if it means
because the perfect image your public mobs and martyrs me
Lost in too many words
maybe there, but not here
i hate being torn
between the maybe and the yes
I wrote love on my arms
so I wouldn't write scars
too far, too gone, a genius
too blind or too dumb i should have seen this
coming.
like the nightmares for four months
woke up crying but your assurance
kept me close and coming back
in fact, never left because i lack
the ability to overcome my love and loyalty
still, in denial that you toyed with me
still, if ther's anyon's toy i'm glad to be
it's yours
(you sit me back on the shelf of the toystore)
one day maybe but not yet i'm sure.
and
       the words
                         t
                           r
                              a
                               ­ i
                                   l

                                    d
                                   o
                                     w
                                     n
                                          the page,
                                                             like
                                                                dripping
                                                                               tears .
                                                                                              .
                                                        ­                                              .
                                                               ­                                          they
                                                                                                             probably
                                                                                                                       will .
                                                               ­                                                                    .
                                                             ­                                                                             .
                                                          ­                                                                                  for
                                                                                                                                               years.
she... she left me callous and cold, ripped raw and alone, ....you...you spoke radio wave words that embedded themselves in my skin, took time to sink and burrow in, I, I made promises that shuffled into the sketched edge skyline, my lifeline, I, screamed promises at God.
a man can olnly be so real
i do my best to be transparent
nearly always end up translucent
in the blending of black and grey i lose it
greay fog choking out the music
hear only wind not the voices that it carres
thought for **** sure that with our promises we married
ourselves to a future despite the hellfire we'd have to walk through to get to it
but it's apparent that what was apparent was not the truth
even after you quit it,  i can't quit loving you
stark coal tables that deny, to respond
entrenched in my own emotions,
places that seem as hopeless as
holes in the whole of germany,
otherwise would just be tables
but they arent
because as i ask questions again and again
it is they that shatter the sound waves,
they who break through to deny any lasting echo,
they who seem to forget that i asked any question at all.
They are traumatized men, attempting to unsee gunfire
that broke through their best friends hearts
that is what these tables are
naturally catatonic, or in the throes
of post traumatic stressful flashbacks that
snap back inside my head like
I was there too
Nova gas tastes like bittersweet memories
Bittersweet memories taste like gunpowder.
Like pennies.
like pens  that ive chewed through until the ink bleeds into my mouth
They leave open wounds in me,
i wound writing utensils.
Seems like we all value leaving our mark.
by scars, and by
ink sinking into skin and hearts.
Every man makes flesh his canvas.
****** is making a habit of starting many projects and never finishing any,
slashing strategic gashes across canvasses with no past infection,
unraveling every cotton fibre from the edges of that single stroke,

Suicide is scribbling every ounce of inspiration on a single sheet,
until you come to its end.


I , am guilty ,
of both.
the truth
and lies
look like
mirror
images
And then society started splitting truths like hairs and blurring bold lines into itty bitty discrepancies that make the world go round – only a little bit differently than you would think – they started talking more and meaning less, using words that were meaningless and hiding what they meant from themselves in a massive mess of words that make no sense under the surface – they started running from the truth without even knowing they were moving – they thought they had it in their hands, but turns out it was a trick of the light – the senses that were their only source of inference.
I hang on every second
for even a sliver of perspective
a word, anything to tie me to you
something to say that i haven't lost you
a look even,
my chest feels like it's got a boulder on it
my hands are shaking
every time i hear the sound of a message
i secretly hope its you
i gave my roomate all my knives and sharp things to hide
no more scissors in the bathroom
that spare compass somewhere put away
i swear my remarks were never meant to cut you
and knowing that i did, how bad i hurt you
makes me feel like i deserve those slices
a few too many pills
the exploration of an artery
but i told you id change
that id be a different man
that i was overcoming
that i put the knife away
along with the ****
and i'm trying
i'm fighting
i'm tired
but i'm not done til i lay down
i'm not giving up on this
even though friendship is not an option right now
again, that one with the chemicals.
I wish
I held a secret
affections unuttered as to
avoid the coming clutter
of our friendship
coloring pages uncolored
now, i love colors, don't get me wrong
but when i mix the hues
and they come out differently than i expect
when i aim for purple and insteead get blue
its unnerving, loss of control,
thoughts of being undeserving because i did something wrong
the entire nature of our friendship has been altered - now, i am afraid
before. . .i could hide. everything could be fine.
so long as i shut my eyes and kept mt teeth clenched tight.
i wish i hadnt told you how i felt last night. . .
especially since i wish i knew how to express my self rightly
i cant put words to these affections quite so well
i love you, but not in the way that i might love someone else
that i would feel these things for. . . i don't think i like you like that
i think my jealousy is wrapped up in my own pride
i think my affections are perfectly fine.
i dont want you to have the idea
that im falling madly in love with you
and that you have to at all change the way we are
that. . .would be the tragedy i am afraid of.
even the slightest altering of the innocent
simple, beautiful, unexplained nature of our friendship
chemicals i think.

but could have been in the beginning with la mariposa
I set out to google
If getting a shake
in your hands
was a sign of an addict
I didn't quite make it
before i lost interest
or maybe focus
The image of God, seen in a "Godless heathen"
Before you was an ideal , but now is something I believe in.
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