Hold on,
Let me go first this time –
Relax.
Put your head back and close your eyes
Let me work this situation out my way,
In my time,
But baby chime when you’re ready to.
I might be occupied but I’ll listen,
I’ll wait.
I’ll be patient like you.
Sing.
Don’t be afraid to sing.
Sing the way you make me sing
To the songs you created that I now play back to you.
And do nothing. But embrace it all,
Indulge in every feeling.

Restless love
Awakened by You,
Live and breathe again.
Give me life again.

Restless love
Awaken in You.
Find me waiting.
This heart is waiting.

I have written for you before,
Conversing as though you were sitting across from me;
Waiting for your whimsical, engaging response;
Your subtle laughter, your keen use of vocabulary;
I have longed to hear your voice, speak to me.

I have written for you before,
Hoping that my words would find you…wherever you are,
And bring you back home;
A place where we know you belong;
Back to the life that you built with me;
I have longed to feel you near, for without you I am incomplete.

I have written for you before,
Initially with an optimistic vision;
Knowing that my faith was the foundation of all good things;
And all good things you bring;
So I dare not cease to write, to hope, and to dream.

I have written for you before,
In the time before I was told that you would never write back;
Before my letters were returned to me -
I was told that not a single word reached you;
In the moments when I didn’t know the truth,
I wrote to you… every day, I would write for you.

I have written for you before,
But now I write solely for myself –
For my sanity - writing to you will always make me happy.
Though I know that you will never hear my voice, see my words, or feel what I feel,
I know of no other way by which to live.
So I will continue, to write, to hope, and to wait,
Until that unfortunate day;

When my hands can no longer raise my pen;
When my mind struggles to find the words to express how I feel.
When I can no longer hear your voice and I forget your name;
When I do not notice that you are no longer here.

I have written for you before,
And here I am, writing for you again.

They call me Insane.
A profane past inflicted brutal wounds that are so deep and hollow,
It causes one to lose hope in the occurrence of a Tomorrow.
With cold hands, my core had been ripped open so wide
That it could never be “stitched up”-
Pieces of flesh and spirit that never will be placed back together;
There existed no ‘Band-Aid’ that could cover up;
No method of rehabilitation to make up what I had lost-
What was taken away from me, by force, had ran its course,
Now I am done -
Damaged and shunned,
Maybe this time Evil has won.
But I remember the days of that profane past;
Memories of your voice, and the shadow that you cast.
My eyes were open, and we felt my heart beat,
In that time, I was still alive. So I know.
I know that I will never be the same;
I am deformed, remolded, dismantled by pain,
And yet they call me Insane,
Because I pointed in your direction when they asked,
“Who is to blame?”

Measure me,
To make sure I fit into your perfect world,
Where everything and everyone is the same,
Size, me up so that I recognize the standards I must meet,
So that I can see the hidden boundaries I shouldn't cross or pursue;
Show me what to do –
How to stand, where to put my hands,
How to hold my head, and where to place my feet instead,
Of someone else, choose me
To be a part of your anarchy.

Prepare me,
To be fixed,
To be cleansed of my flaws and all the qualities that made me special,
I am not, what I was taught to be,
Controlled, yes, that will reveal the best of me.
But first I must be made into something entirely,
Different, from what I use to be;
Less than an individual,
Less than a human being.
Clothe me in the suit of your mentality,
Stitched with the thread of your principalities,
Armed with the knowledge that I belong to you and not to me.

Teach me,
To conform to the world in which others seem to belong,
Because I’ve been the outcast,
Born with the disease of individuality,
And in this condition I won’t live long.
So I’m done holding on to the ideas that were installed in me,
I’m ready to walk in line with the others who make up this Modern day society.