I used to clothe myself in others
cover every square inch of me
with someone else.
I wore war paint, and Camouflage. But no one tells you
when you put those layers on
how difficult it is to scrub them off

so i'm sorry
for asking for more
and hoping
and praying
you felt the same
and hoping
and praying
the nights up meant
something
obviously
i
was
wrong

I know I'm just a cure for your loneliness,
That's okay cause I'm lonely too.
Loneliness feels empty,
I feel empty, how about you?
We try to escape that loneliness,
As we meet between the sheets.
And for a very brief moment,
Our loneliness, takes the back seat.

When I was young, my Sunday school teacher said that my prayers lacked genuine emotion. She told me to try praying with a blanket wrapped around myself and my eyes shut to imagine that God was there holding me.
I always wondered why God wouldn’t actually hold me. I still do.
And I know that I have a lot of expectations of God for someone who doesn’t believe in God but my hope has been so hard to let go of.
But if we are made in his image, why should anyone let their hopes get so high?
Do you know how to keep a stranger from crying?
Do you know how to mend the bullet shaped holes in your mother’s voice? Of course not.
Do you know how to end a war?
Do you know how to be content?
Do you know how to be happy?
I imagine that sometimes God gets unhappy.
If we are made in his image I can only hope that he continues to evolve as we do, allow his followers to evolve as the world around us does because I swear I will lose my **** if I see one LGBTQ+ youth commit suicide. If I see another woman get kicked out of her church for aborting the child she couldn’t afford to raise. If I see one more country start a war over what they believe; God, can you see?
You’re tearing us apart.
You’ve turned humanity into a human race.
You’ve turned our earth into a military base.
So please, God, give us something to trust. Give us your saving grace.

Self destruction
In a place where nothing is certain
When someone needs saving
From themselves

The way you don't need anyone
The one's you needed are all gone
Your searching for someone to hate
Anything to make you feel something in change of nothing

You'd rather be alone
And spend your days drowning
Wondering the streets
Inhaling the smoke as it darkens the lightness of your soul

Everyone here is out for something
You no longer believe in genuine
They get paid to look after you
And the therapist gets paid to understand things that don't make sense

Love is not kind
Love is not sweet
Love is like a million knives piercing all skin cells and tissue that exist in your body
You give it out in hope that you will receive it back
But you just stand there like a macho man deflating by the day waiting for it to transpire
You grow weak by the day because it knows that it has power over you
Insecurity, pain, few-second joy, sorrow, anguish and despondency become your closest of mates.
As much as they may not understand what you are going through, they are still there
Piercing through your eyes trying to see if their job has been done
Love is not what people say it out to be
"Oh babe I love you so much"
It ends up making people say this
"I regret the day that I ever lay my eyes on you"
Hurt and pain is all that structures your life.
Love is a choice and as much as I may have decided to have it in my life,
I am not guaranteed that it will be there forever
Seasons change and so do people
Now all that is left for me to do is to prepare, sit and just wait.