I crave silence when you speak to me
Words are typically weapons
And I’m not used to compliments
Your company is desperately unfulfilling

Hiding is so much easier than
Feeling warm embraces
I’m anxious your arms are chains
Your heart is a fire

I’m a witch on trial
For unproven crimes
That only I’ve seen
Only I know what lurks
Behind my restless eyes

Doubts and fears that repel
Those like yourself
Strength can be seen
In someone unwilling
To give up on someone
Who already gave up
On
Himself

Speak strong and hug hard
Because the silence and chains
Are all I’ve known
Please prove me wrong
Or end me quickly

To everyone else
I'm just a ball of play-doh
Stretched and pinched and pushed
To fit whatever mold they want

My family wants me
To be something I never will:
A nurse, a doctor, something with a large salary

My peers tell me
That being "cool" constitutes
Drinking, partying, getting high

And society shows me
Beauty is acquired by
Being inpossibly attractive, tall, slim

Don't they know that
Stretching play-doh too far
Eventually tears it apart?

She likes an archaeologist
cos he does it in the dirt

and the older she gets
the more he likes to flirt

She likes the way he smells
in a faded work shirt

hard and lean
but not mean
just a little bit assertive

He still let's her roll
her own cigarettes

and handles her gently
like a gold statuette

while they dance
with the shadows
down low

you know.

I once saw a man sitting at
the bar of one of my favorite dives,
and he looked so handsome in his
profile,
his lips gingerly kissing a bottle
of craft beer,
his suit fitted just right
against his sculpted
frame.

He stared intently through his
trendy glasses
at the glow of his
laptop screen,
and I imagined he was
reading something involving
important business,
or maybe a book about a
new age philosophy as he
pondered the meaning of life.

He seemed so comfortable
and familiar in his
solitude,
like he traveled often and
had grown to love himself
immensely;
he valued his alone
time.

I imagined he went to some
ivy league school,
like Brown or Cornell,
where he studied business and
made his parents proud.
He still likes to learn and finds
the world to be a
blissfully curious place.

I was enthralled with
the picture I had drawn in
my head as I
gazed at his strong jaw
and white smile,
and I couldn't help but whisper
to my friend how
infatuated I was with the
view from
my seat in our wooden booth,
when my friend chuckled
nervously,
his brows downturned as he
erased all I had
drawn and replaced the
picture with
he's homeless.

Uphill struggles on the road
That lead me near to you;
Panicked times when doubt seeps in
Dear Lord what should I do.
Put on the armor you have said
And after doing all stand still.
Renew your strength and wait on me
Just rest, this is my will.
These fleshly thoughts are tempted
To fix everything myself;
Forgetting I can never win,
Unless I have your help.
Sometimes it’s hard to fight
That need to push ahead
To just be still, stop pushing
And wait on you instead.
Lord give me the wisdom
To pull back if needed,
The strength to push ahead
Or the faith to just stand still and wait
The way your word has said.