Holy is Your Name,
Author of Salvation,
hear my soul crying,
catch my spirit falling.

Wash my sadness away,
hurt my eyes to praise,
Jesus, You are all I need
forever is all I embrace.

Guide me into the woods,
ignite the fire in my heart,
a heart that once was lost;
peace my mind at war.

Love for the sinners,
light for the shadows,
sunshine in the thunder,
these are all I ask from You.

Lead me to Your path,
I hide my fears and rejoice,
take me with Your grace,
and I follow your voice.

I call upon You now, Jesus,
on these bended knees,
hear our soul crying,
catch our spirit falling.

Love for the sinners,
light for the shadows,
sunshine in the thunder,
these are all I ask from You.

i am not your blooming flower
i don't belong in your
garden kingdom populated
by perennials and ruled by
thorn stemmed rose bushes
where you go
to seek solace and discover
the bursting lightness of
that sensuous pain when
blood erupts from that
thin line where
the white fatty layer threatens
to spill out into the world
and stain your white carnations.

and i never promised you
that it would be pretty
and that one day you would be
able to look at those sensationless slices
and see more than just
an act of scarification
that i asked for
that i endured
but the physical embodiment of
that internal scream that
bounces off the sides of my chest
and shatters the crystalline lattice
that protects my dispassionate heart
from your touch
as soft as the downy feathers
of the spring's children
emerging from their
incubator eggs to
greet the world where they
will fall before they fly
and i will impale myself on
the pyre of their sacrifice.

Thou calleth me a poet,
                           Yet I am a prophetic Stoic,
Who tells thou what thou doth not want to hear!!!!

i've reverted back to the days when
i held a permanent position
in between the arms of an
ugly, paisley patterned easy chair.

i played a game of hide and seek--
hiding from feelings, sought only by others
to prove that i had some semblance of humanity
lurking behind my blank eyes.

those days were dark, angry
as they ate me up, gathering every drop
of my existence like a sponge

fast forward: i'm far away and
mom says the chair is gone.
what should have felt like anguish
feels like nothing.

all the feelings are in the chair
like coins hidden in the couch cushions,
gone before we recognized their existence.

i've reverted back to the days when
i held a permanent position
in between the arms of an
ugly, paisley patterned easy chair,

but now the chair is gone
and i am left to soak up the feelings.

I'm not sure what time it is.
Especially not right now.
There is no "right now".

By the time we can calculate
The exact millisecond of right now,
It's already over.

I'm not leaving you outside my heart
well I am,
but I'm not
not-telling you anything I know

there's walls inside my own mind I'm not allowed to cross
they don't have doors, I'd have to climb
and then jump
so I'd be falling
for a long time

and nobody knows how broken I'd be if I'd survive the fall

so unless
you know how to buy a parachute
and help me climb the walls
you just have to
accept
there're things about me you'll
never know