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Dec 2013 · 989
The Blank Page
Billy Jepma Dec 2013
Staring, empty, perfect
Taunting me, begging me, cursing me
The endless abyss of white ***** me in
Falling deeper and deeper into the bleached landscape
Losing my grip on why I’m even here
Do I dare mar the flawless sheet
With markings of one so unworthy

Mind spinning ceaselessly
Sweat forming into droplets on my brow
Its slander hits me, crushes me
Faces me with my own incompetence
Dares me to do something great, beautiful
Something, anything

Eyes clenched shut, fingers curled into fists
The empty canvas finally begins to fill
Lines zigzagging up, down, left, right
Railroad tracks of half thoughts and feelings
Come together in unison, sharing what makes them
Me, splattered in black

Taunts become support, mocking to applause
The daunting page is beaten
Conquered, overcome, tainted
All that I can ever be
Thrown across a space undefined by time
Life no longer binding
The me I put into the blank page
Oct 2013 · 1.5k
The Staircase
Billy Jepma Oct 2013
That’s all it takes
Just one step. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Yet I stand frozen
Unwilling to move.
He calls my name. Offers a hand but I still remain
At the bottom of this stairway to the unknown.

People come and go
Some taking that fateful step
Others turning the other way.
If I could only ask those who had the faith,
Was it worth it?
Is whatever awaits at the top worth all of this?
Should I just go back the way I came?

Even after my pain and suffering
He wants me with Him at the top.
Can’t he see me in my disbelief?
In my shame?
Surely I do not belong there.
Still he beckons me on with his simple request.
To take an impossible step.

The path is steep. Narrow.
Daunting in every way.
It’s impossible…isn’t it?
What if I stumble? Fall?
I couldn’t possibly get back up.
Maybe it’s best to stay where it’s safe
Secure and protected and predictable.

“Just one step.”
All He asks of me
Simple and complex at the same time.
A leap of faith, they call it.
Perhaps He isn’t crazy, but sincere.
I can do one step, can’t I?
So I take His hand in mine.

He doesn’t pull me forward
Doesn’t say a thing
Offers only a smile
The climb doesn’t seem so far anymore
Achievable. Freeing. Even close.
Faith is a difficult thing, but all it takes
Is a single step.

A step I’m finally willing to take.
Billy Jepma Jun 2013
Through this stained glass window I see
You staring at me. Me staring at you.
But only one can see the other.
Do you even know I’m here?
Always watching. Waiting for you to see
That I’ve never left.

I see her gentle face all day
Always out of reach,
Yet just a foggy mirror rests between us.
I try to wipe away the dirt
Reclaim the beauty that was once shared on both sides
But succeed only in smearing it further.

You cannot hear me, I cannot hear you.
Yet I can see, see the you I’ve always known.
Always loved.
Still you remain blind.
Blind to me and blind to you.
No words I say can clear the grime away,

So here I remain a helpless viewer,
Lost in an image that may not even be real.
I yearn for the day that her veil is lifted
And the forever constant truth makes itself known.
The truth that I am here
And she is there.

Two people, separated only by fog
Yet forever together.
Someday I will show her the her I’ve always seen.
The the window will clear.
No longer will we be separated
Together at last.

Free of the restrictions these lies have placed upon us
Finally able to be who we were always meant to be.
Through this stained glass window I see;
Only you and me.
Apr 2013 · 600
Old Friends
Billy Jepma Apr 2013
A room full of people.
New People. Old People. Everything in between.
And me. Lost in the middle.
I see a table ahead of me
With all my friends crowded around it.
Pride calls my name
Temptation beckons me to sit next to her
Regret offers me a hand
And Hate smirks. Welcoming me.
I hear nothing.
They call themselves my friends
But who are they really?

So I sit with them.
The table’s too full for me to unload my backpack
I keep it where it is. Like
I always do and never not do.
Lost in a conversation, I little care for,
My eye is drawn to an old friend at a faraway table.
We used to be so close as kids,
The best of friends,
Then things changed
And I forgot about little Faith.
Who was always there
And always true.

Pride says something that makes Hate chuckle.
Temptation strokes my hair and whispers in my ear
I hear nothing.
Faith, a friend lost in time, has my attention.
She’s prettier than I remember
And smaller than I thought she once was.
She sits alone, on the outskirts, and still a smile rests on her gentle face.
Regret taps my shoulder, offering me his leftovers
I stand up and push him away. He yells
Hate curses, Temptation calls, and Pride beckons after me.
I hear nothing.
Faith sees me coming, smiles, makes room.

I sit. Unload my pack
Let it slip from my shoulders at last.
Faith smiles. “Been awhile,” she whispers.
“Got lost for a bit. But I’m back,” I reply.
She offers me some of her lunch
And we share our first meal in years.
My old friends in the distance call my name
Begging me to come back.
I hear nothing.
Faith takes my hand in hers and
Suddenly, finally,
I hear everything.

— The End —