He said he was okay. I did too. I lied.

You call me out upon the waters.
The great unknown.
Where feet may fail.

Red stitching gliding on her fingers.
Bringing her arm back with force.
The bullet went flying through the air.
Steady.
Steady.
Metal hitting it.
The bullet went higher in the air.
Faster.
The bullet landed hard, yet softly in her hand.
**You're out

My hunger for you grows.
As I sit and wait.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Still waiting.
Time ticks by.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
Years.
Still no Jesus.
I sit and wait.
Soon the church waits.
We all wait.
Until the end.

Silver blade makes me feel nice.
The only thing I trust.
As the blade slices through the ice.
The blade turns to rust.
Years and years.
Of practicing and falling.
Of sweat, blood and tears.
Sometimes all I want to do is play volley.
But I would rather skate.
Skating is my best friend.
I am never late.
I am in the rink until the day ends.
Skating.
Ice Skating.

Curtains,
an invention made to hide,
to protect.
Curtains
are made
to give a sense of security;
isolation well-deserved.
But
Curtains,
can be dangerous.
Curtains
can keep you from the truth,
keep you from your life
outside your life.
Curtains
can make you feel stranded
and helpless.
Curtains
can make someone go crazy,
crazy enough to take a bottle,
keys,
and a gun.
Curtains
will make you drive around for two days,
THINKING
about your two sons.
Curtains
will make the hot fat tears roll down your face
in embarassment and pain and agony.
Curtains,
will put that one bullet in the gun,
put that gun to your head,
and pull.
Curtains,
will blind,
and lie,
and ****,
and tear,
and rip,
and hurt
you,
if you let it.

You sit there looking at me like I am nothing.
You look at me in the eye, and want me to disappear.
Now you are a stranger.
We barely talk.
I got told that I would be fine.
That this is normal.
Is it?