A thousand years from now,
there would be no more me.
The streets will be brand new
And civilization will have taken a different dimension.

A thousand years from now,
technology would replace human digestion process.
A thousand years from now,
men of amazing genius will walk on the sky.

A thousand years from now,
Science will repaint the sky.
A thousand years from now,
The world would rewire it's solar system.

A thousand years from now,
would I still be remembered?
A thousand years from now,
Will the grave have curtailed me?

A thousand years from now,
I would still be with you.
A thousand years from now,
My pen will still wipe your tears.

God drew up the plans
and Jesus colored them in

It's cold outside but I hear seagulls
It feels like October or November
Mixed with a little bit of May
It reminds me of pumpkin farms and beaches
Both associated with good times
Paired with past people
Forevers gone all wrong

Memories of goats and cookies
Almost send me into an attack of anxiety
Heartbeat racing and limbs get weak
I have to concentrate on my breathing
Cause I can't afford to fall right now

The beach reference comes from the smell
It's probably dead fish
But it reminds me of lakes
Like the one we went fishing on
Or the one we swam in with my family
Different waters carry the same smell
And remind me of the same person

My most intense triggers seem to be the weather
Which is ****** cause I can't escape it
So I keep driving
Heat up
Windows sealed
To escape these broken memories
Now broken people
And it's all my fault

Sometimes I still long
for the places I used to be,
for the spaces I used to fill,
for the hands I used to hold,
and for the people which used to surround.
But then I look around,
see the places I get to go,
where I am today,
and the world I occupy daily.
I look within to see a healing and serene mind,
free from the whims of self-destructive thoughts,
yours or mine.
I see people that take my shortcomings
as I take theirs,
with love and steady comfort,
and I long
no longer.

On a good day
My body’s up in flames
Burning from head to toe
In the guilt built on anxiety
On a bad day
I’m completely gone
Waiting for my time
To leave this place behind

Last night sitting on the edge of my bed
a bed that seemed more like a ledge
there with a burden in my head:
Should I look up or just feel the dread?

I sat longer and I think I prayed.
I knew he was a God who cared,
but lately on the verge of afraid,
my faith seemed weak and impaired.

I wondered if they were right
that the short blast of rays
won’t hurt and will **** the blight
the doctors say is in its early phase.

But why pray to a God who seemed unable
to help my aunt who died
from a disease so unstable,
so good at finding places to hide?

So here I was, teetering between trust
and its evil opposite, doubt
doubt he can alter life’s ******.
Does he have any real clout?

In this dark of mind
I came to see I really don’t know!
So why let my inner skeptic always lurking behind
reign and empower its verdict of no?

Instead I choose to lift my head
from that lonely fretting place
and embrace a Father not gone and dead -
but here, now to create and renew me with grace.

“Teetering,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier