Silence between my ears, it’s this pause that I fear. Rubbing my eyes in disbelief, hands shaking with no relief. Heart pounds with no end, racing thoughts I try to fend. Patience seems to hold no grip, pain coursing through my bottom lip. Words becoming hard to write, anxiety filled as I try to fight. Apprehension is keeps me on a high, feelings of sanity passing me by. Silence broken by sudden shock, body begins to come unlocked. Senses heightened to every sound, words being to bring me down. Expectations start to crack, feelings of insecurity I do not lack. True emotion comes over me, afraid of what the world might see. Back behind my guise I go, true passion I will not show. Afraid of what just happened now, no emotion seen upon my brow. Hidden behind my darkened hood, strength gone from where I stood. Hope for another possible try, may come again under a different sky.

Can I borrow your voice, because I’ve seem to have lost mine. In search of a purpose, that I’ve found in a line. About love that’s been found in a place without hope, that oppresses its people without shackles or ropes. In a place with a light that shines in the dark, that echoes of praise, music and baby shark. Where the youth of tomorrow step for what’s right, in the name of equality and justice with unwavering might. A place where we have all given so much, and received even more from the people we’ve touched. But our yesterdays have passed and out tomorrow is today, and I struggle for happiness as Selma drivers away. So I stare out the window with my mind in a daze, as this once alien scenery catches my gaze. And the trees pass in rhythm as I fall victim to sleep, with only one thought on my mind…the company I keep. For I have been blessed by the company I hold, the experiences we’ve had and the stories we’ve told. By the games we’ve played and the relationships we’ve formed, by the tears we have shed for weathering the racial storm. And as I stir from my sleep I wake without fear, because the people I’d bleed for are sitting so near. So with my voice fading fast I say to you all, if the road gets too hard, don’t be afraid to call. For your callous hands look exactly like mine, from the work that we’ve done to make Teppers shine. And if you need a wise word or a shoulder to cry, I can be there for your lows and even your highs.  This trip has meant more to me then words can express, and its you with my heart that I choose to invest. So with these last and final words, I compassionately say to you. Keep you minds always open and your heart will stay true. Because our world is always changing no matter what we do, and it is you whom I love that will bridge the old and the new.

We pick and we choose in a fit of immature hope,
Though the effects of our choices are beyond our very scope.
Driven by the soul and its insatiable need,
To fill itself full for that which we bleed.
For that which we fall and get up again,
For that which cry and put paper to pen.
All for the sake of our insatiable thirst,
That some see as a blessing and others a curse.
But the game must be play with all that we hold,
With our hearts and our honesty and we must be bold.
To look defeat in the eye and never say die,
As cliché as it is…it isn’t a lie.
So open your eyes cuz you have never been blind,
What you see in your heart is the same in your mind.
And wait not for fate to come stumbling by,
For you hold the key that opens their eyes.

Tattoos covering a man that speaks of his soul
A dog with a playful heart and loving tongue
Miles of dandelion covered fields and poison ivy infested forest
Mud covered boots and worn out running shoes
Smoke rising from a chimney and an open door lifestyle
Swings swaying in the wind connected to a cat-**** infested sandbox
A pond with fishing poles in the dirt and a splintery dock
Paint stripped basketball hoop without its net ripped and torn
Rocks and logs surrounding an overused fire pit
A lush garden with every kind of bug and animal
Another dog with his wise years found spotted on his nose
An old, leathery glove with its seams falling out
Scratched and scorned arms from 4th of July bottle rockets
Mom and dad a quick walk just a mile down the road
A 1962 Corvette Stingray parked next to the dusty van
Two cats sleeping the day away on the porch
A trampoline with rusted springs and a sprinkler underneath
The grill cooling from an afternoon of burgers and hotdogs
The brother flying in from Colorado after a week on the slopes
Rock and roll blasting from the house that can be heard for miles
All the windows open to take in the summer air
Every pillow and blanket carefully positioned to make an epic fort
Bikes hanging in the garage next to the bin with every ball you can think of
An over used washer and dryer next to the hallway with endless pictures
Half finished schoolwork on the table surrounded by the crust of a PB&Js;
Rooms with unmade beds and works of art mixed in with stuffed animals
A sister biking in from the town just beyond the nature reserve
Wrinkled hands and dirt filled nails contrasted by a gold ring
Nerf bullets covering the floor, windows, and fridge in the kitchen
Chalk covered black top from the garage to the street
Lego towns and spaceships covering the coffee table
A whiteboard with math equations and tic-tac-toe fighting for whitespace
A wall full of board games missing a die here or a figuring there
Newspaper clippings, pictures of nephews and nieces, and report cards on the fridge
Coffee *** half gone, cereal bowls in the sink, and the oven on for some reason
Bike ramps with caution tape and under construction signs scattered in the garage
Firefly nights that have to compete with the millions of the stars in the sky
Flashlight filled ghost stories in the family tent with mallows and chocolate bars
Lazy afternoons with a good book ending with an even better nap
And a mailbox, surrounded by tulips, on my little patch of heaven.

Strip me not of my dignity, as i have little to give. When i stand before your gaze, i yearn for you to forgive. My juvenile past that became my beginning, of a lifetime of worrying in this world that is spinning. Standing before you now with my world upside down, afraid of the pain that is causing me to drown. In this purgatory of uncertainty I hold no control, of my pulse that has quickened and my heart that you stole. Of the pain in my stomach that has begun to take wings, and my sleepless nights where your voice continues to sing. I’ve given up hope to find my lost lucidity, as my words and emotions find some validity. In this meek commonality on this once black and unscripted page, set free from my insecurity and my cognitive cage. You are what set me free and caused me to write, to hold back no longer this wonderful burning light. That has taken control and forced me to be, overwhelmingly and uncontrollably happy. I smile when you smile and laugh when you laugh, waiting patiently to see you through its only a second and a half. And though I see myself as completely lost without you, I wish to not be found if you are lost too. But lost I remain as I search and I search, not for my light but for the courage that remains perched. High in a tree and just out of reach, as I stumble over myself and search for my speech. Hoping one-day to climb that daunting tall tree, and show you the happiness you bring out of me. But for now I stay lost and sitting in plain sight, tirelessly afraid to express that which I now write. Looking for the time when I can summon all my strength, and become more then what we hold at arms length.

We as humans define our fears by that which we can’t control. Those things that stand just outside our physical grip but lay within the range of our persuasive comprehension. For control translates to security in whatever realm of life we seek, and many hold to that security as a lifeline for social and personal survival. The same survival techniques that have dictated our every move since the dawning of our time, but now finds reformed salvation in the egocentric world that we humans have so maliciously conquered. And though the means by which control is obtained changes from era to era, the quest for it still holds the same aggression and ferocity by which we have pursue it since before mans evolution. Holding complete disregard to everything in our path if only for the pursuit of this so called happiness. Perpetuated happiness that has been malevolently twisted and manufactured to fit the fantasies of those who deem it worthy. Regardless of the overt subconscious damage being done to those who adopt these practices. Regardless of our fellow man who gets forgotten and dismembered in the dust. Regardless of the destruction that is then committed upon the earth itself. All in the name of perceived happiness and an unwillingness to accept change into our lives. And though this phobia of what we cant control dictates the steps we take and mistakes we make, there is still hope. Hope for free thought and disconnect from the need of control. An acceptance of a blind destiny. Not a destiny for those unwilling to take the reins of life and influence it as they see fit, but rather one who understands that the reins are not theirs to control. And though control might be had from time to time, there is the awareness that it is fleeting. That it is always in flux and though the heavens might smile in your favor today, tomorrow they might turn their back to you all together. So rather then embracing that which we can control and discarding that which we cant, shouldn’t we be accepting that by which we cant control and forgiving ourselves for clinging onto the momentary continuity within our lives that is control? Or are we doomed to always put out mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing on the line in order to obtain that transitory sedative that quells our animalistic needs?

The room begins to spin as the night takes me away. And the pain of tomorrow becomes a forgotten yesterday. Slowly coming to as my blood begins to clots, its replaced by the numbness as I take another shot. One to the chest and one to the head, as the reminder of forgotten pain flows from where I bled. Reaching for a needle but only finding glass, the numbness becoming my pain with the hope it will not last. Perpetuated agony forces me to feel, the numbness of the liquor or the pain that will not heal. Afraid of feeling too much or feeling not enough, coming face to face with my demons or being perceived as tough. So I drown in my self-loathing as I empty my ****** cup, knowing the hole I’ve landed in goes down and never up. Hoping for the night to bring about another day, when my pain becomes my motivation to help me get away. But for now I fill my cup and hold tight to where I bleed, knowing a day will come eventually when I will finally be freed.