“O Father, teach me to realize Thy
nearness behind the voice of my prayer. Teach me to breathe Thy
breath in my own breathing.”

I’m swimming in the bed of comfort
where I soul search for clarity,
in the presence of my present woes
it’s in my darkest hours
that I reach out to my third eye
in retrieving my wisdom kindness.
I’m at ease with my mentality;
as I crave intellect rain of thoughts
in the scent of Your spirit.
I recalled Your gift to me,
the gift of giving and being given
it’s in my darkest hours
in the most rarest cold nights
I find a peace of mind.

Tho raw misfortune faded
And I may be alone
It doesn't mean I changed my mind
Or wandered far from home
Thoughts still barb like hooks
Kisses lost their taste
Promises changed meaning
As we fell from grace
Instead I ache for passion
An all consuming fire
Honest, complicated
Thunder soaked desire
Consume my cause & motive
***** the brutal past
Love my dying embers
I wasn't meant to last

Love is a strange thing
Like a blind man who is able to foresee all living in and past infinity
Chills they come and then they go
You feel special to one and then you feel hollow  
You feel joy and then you feel sadness
There is so much emotion when you expect only pure happiness
Once you have explored all there is to see
Will you stay right here with me?

Try to please too much and you'll lose who you really are

To be pending is to be drunk or high 90% of the time,
Is to wish you weren't alive in the rest
Is to pray to any god who will listen
And then give in to another form of an addiction when they don't

To be pending is to live a life of sin, give no ***** and let anyone and no one in,
To drink not to get drunk but to die.
To be higher than heaven to be turnt till 11 the next morning when your belly is churning from the demons who wouldn't drown,
turning your belly into a fire pit,
purging you into the flower beds of suburbia

To be pending is to wish you were somewhere when you are nowhere, when you are nothing,
to face constant embarrassment, harassment,
to feel shame with every breath you take,
walking dead girl

To be pending is to wander directionless for a week
or a month
or a year,
living in the eerie grotesque comfort of a home which doesn't really seem like home anymore,
To pace the streets at four in the morning trying to detach memories tied to lampposts like ribbons...

Here is the first places we kissed,
here is where I noticed a heart shaped puddle,
here is where we shared our last spliff, here is when I cried
and here

and here

and here.

And it was at Mantua that my eyes
Turned into spiders & wove a web
To catch kindness on the wing.

I lay at peace
in this warm dawn sun.
Birds sing of love
before battle is begun.

Perfectly held
cocooned by folds of land
in the life line
of a universal hand.

But death mounts
the horizon with the sun;
violence, blood rises,
it will be begun.

I throw off the warmth,
of my bundled feather down;
kissed by a cool breeze
as I cast my gaze around.

Terror rains
from the sky on either side
with no escape
from a surging tide.

. 

But yet, and yet, a bird still sings his love;
harmony, as if he will find it.
And there's a song in my heart,
but I will die behind it.

I will fight,
and I will fight,
so that I might live to find it.