i dropped my phone
and it cracked.
this just feels like life,
except im in a freefall
waiting to hit the pavement
and shatter,
just like my phone.

In all honesty, I’m scared. I’m a scared 13-year-old boy trapped inside a 23-year-old man’s body who has been stripped of all joy due to the corruptions of an overly demanding society and what could be considered an unstable mind. In all honesty I’m scared of joy.

What disruptions and changes may joy make to the apathetic lifestyle I’m so used to, yet want to rid of so badly? A broken cycle I’m stuck in yet change to something considered better is what I’m unsure of. Is it my lack of faith or the fact that it will feel like I’m climbing a mountain to adjust to this new joyous lifestyle that all so desperately seek?

Maybe I’m meant to a life of the mundane, but whose really to say besides the Lord Himself, who promises a life to the full. Yet I question this, where has joy been within my 23 years of a sorrowful life?

At the same time, I follow the Lord due to this promise, holding on with a faith that may seem blind to many, but to me my faith stems out of the beauty of suffering and the hope of what is to come from the things that are unseen to the naked eye.

An odd paradox, yet one where I hear the call to “take heart, o beloved son.”

tears,
how many more can i spill?
tears,
maybe im better off drowning in them.

in so many ways i want to be like you,
so care free and admiring of all things.
but alas i’m merely a broken man
whose struggled to admire,
until i met you.

you’re beauty catches the eye,
it’s brighter than the sun,
yet i cannot help but stare.
i don’t fear going blind,
i fear not admiring such beauty.

the greatest heist was pulled
when you stole my heart.

when you said my name
i lost all my senses,
which is when
you took my heart
and scribbled your name.

thankfully,
you gave back my heart,
but now all i think of is you
and to be honest
im not one bit mad.

when i close my eyes,
i see your inviting smile.

when i close my eyes,
i feel your warm embrace.

when i close my eyes,
i hear your joyous laugh.

when i close my eyes,
i smell your flowery scent.

when i close my eyes,
i taste your loving lips.

i wrote better when I was depressed
now I sit behind this desk uninspired
wishing pain still filled my brain
that way the scattered brains
from the gun to my head
became the words that you read.

Take a trip into my heart,
What might you see?

Idk probably some blood,
Maybe some veins.

Potentially even homemade stitches
From all the tears in my heart.

If you’re lucky,
You might even hold it.

But beware,
The barbed wire may be sharp.

Why is it there?
You ask.

Well,
Let me tell you.

Some of us need protection,
But it usually just hurts me too.