Help Lord, for godly men have took their flight,
And left the earth to be the wicked's den:
Not one that standeth fast to Truth and Right,
But fears, or seeks to please, the eyes of men.
When one with other fall's to take apart,
Their meaning goeth not with their words in proof;
But fair they flatter, with a cloven heart,
By pleasing words, to work their own behoof.

But God cut off the lips, that are all set,
To trap the harmless soul, that peace hath vow'd;
And pierce the tongues, that seek to counterfeit
The confidence of truth, by lying loud:
Yet so they think to reign, and work their will,
By subtle speech, which enters every where:
And say, our tongues are ours, to help us still,
What need we any higher power to fear?

Now for the bitter sighing of the poor,
The lord hath said, I will no more forbear,
The wicked's kingdom to invade and scour,
And set at large the men restrain'd in fear.
And sure, the word of God is pure, and fine.
And in the trial never loseth weight;
Like noble gold, which, since it left the mine,
Hath seven times passed through the fiery straight.

And now thou wilt not first thy word forsake,
Nor yet the righteous man, that leans thereto;
But will't his safe protection undertake,
In spite of all, their force and wiles can do.
And time it is, O Lord, thou didst draw nigh,
The wicked daily do enlarge their bands;
And that, which makes them follow ill a vie,
Rule is betaken to unworthy hands.

if I will learn best to heed Your presence through the pain,
then keep me in this hell

God, I swear, I don’t care

I need You like crazy and I know that too well,
but some parts of my heart are dead—
no, I think most of them

I’ve brutally damaged the rest
through this pain that I’ve found
in the emptiness of my chest
and I don’t know what to do now;
I am drowning and I need You so bad,
but something in me still keeps fighting You away,
pushing Your hand.

And Your whisper keeps being diminished
by this shouting voice in my head
saying I don’t need You.
But God, I do.

And it hurts
because I’m listening to the screaming voice in my head
saying over and over again that I’m just fine here on my own,
giving the devil my soul
while I dance on the thin line
between cold and warm.

Father, I’m sorry.
Mostly for all the times that I weren’t,
and because I know exactly what I do.

I can see the image of the hammer in my hands again
with Your blood gushing through Your cracked skin
as You hang upon that cross,
the place where You died for my sin.
My shame is thick and maybe so is my pride
because I’m turning away,
turning away from the light of Your bright eyes
and I’m sick of this.

When will the cycle ever end?

God, I love You but the pain in my chest—

And then, just as fog lifts ever so slightly
over a city to reveal the sun again,
You remove the fear I installed inside of my heart.
The voices that speak lies over me are dead.

I awake to the sound of Your voice
and You’re singing over me after all I’ve done.

(After all I’ve done, God, how You still love me after all I’ve done)

You said You saw me there as You hung upon the cross—
limp and ****** and carrying a darkness thicker
than the worst pain we all have ever tasted in this world.

You said You saw me at my worst—
You said You saw me cursing Your Name while I slept on dirt.

You saw me at my worst.

And what’s most amazing is
You saw the blasphemous lies I’ve believed,
I’ve breathed,
I’ve eaten up,
and lived,
and You still died for me on that cross.

Grace.

You saw me at my worst.

And I know I ***** up and fall down
and sometimes I want to stay on this ground
but You tell me You’re here
and that it was still Your joy to die for me
so I could live in Your glory
and it is Your joy to forgive me.

You saw my filthy soul and You still desired to die for me.

How sick,
how twisted,
how disgusting this world has made me feel;

I’ve cheated myself with these fleeting pleasures of sin,
but now You’re here.
You are here and I am made for You,
to live in Your love,
to dance to the sound of Your song,
to dwell in Your presence forever.

You accept me,
You don’t cast me out.
You forgive—leading me to the road of repentance.
I thought it would be dark and heavy
but with my soul paid in full
it isn’t hard to say no to this world.

The enemy has tried to steal my soul,
but the Light of Christ is leading me
to the truth that I’ve come to know.
And I’m knowing it again,
over and over and over again—

Let me, then, leave my heart in Your hands,
and let it stay there.
And if keeping me in this hell will draw me closer to You,
then I will take it and gladly so,
for I’ve tasted the emptiness of this world and Your discipline may hurt—

But God, everything else is worse.

Break me, I beg You, break me until I am whole.

love ruins things
it leaves us all destitute
and hungry for something else
greater than ourselves

it all ends
it all breaks
we all give up

what's the point of letting someone
who will eventually leave
see your bare soul?

i don't know i don't know i don't know

i just felt like i didn't belong

it just didn't feel right
and i didn't feel secure

his heart was made of broken eggshells
and i got tired of tiptoeing in his presence

i knew it was bound to break

"it's just love," he said

and that's exactly the reason why i left.

light skin
light curls
light laugh
light... heart

                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                     dark skin
                                                            ­                                                                 ­                                  dark curls
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                 dark laugh
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                             heavy... heart

eyes clear green
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                            eyes deep cafe
                                                            ­              stare with electricity
                                                     ­                        carry me down
                                                            ­               feel the intensity

soft sweet sultry
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                    rough cut ravenous
delicate porcelain
                                                       ­                                                                 ­                           sturdy terracotta

envelope me
chase me
ravage me
break my porcelain skin

                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                    entice me
                                                              ­                                                                 ­                                awake me
                                                              ­                                                                 ­                               tighten me
                                                              ­                                                                 ­             sand my rough edges

                                                          ­                      hold me close
                                                           ­                      till days end
                                                             ­                 to show me love
                                                            ­                 and compliment

Love is in...

in the middle of the day
in the things we have to say
in the way we give and take
in the promises we make

Love is in...

it's never out of style
try it on for size
it fits real snug and nice
I think that you will like

Love is in...

it's too hard to ignore
if we run low we'll make some more
in different flavors that's for sure
I'll share mine and you share yours

Love is in...

As juveniles, we are at a stage of being different.
For others, it's indifference.

It's the ripe years of teenagerdom that makes
a youthful adolescent old, but still not wise.

At this age, it's when you realize the things that *******
the very foundations of your childhood.

We have become a legion of sarcastic,
depressed, and misunderstood *******.

We introduce each other by judging.
We talk in the form of rumors.

It's the era of headphones to drown the noise
and drugs to drown our thoughts.

It's stupid crushes, confusion
but mostly, it's hatred for highschool and people.

Misanthropy is not the reason for other's stupidity
,but through our own follies.

We are not untouchables because we are of a lower class,
but because our own class treats each other like taboos,

Heavily frowned upon in society.

I have to die.
This is of no concern to the neighbors.

They will continue to drink their coffee and
read their papers in the art of not giving a ****.

If she was still here,
she might
reach
a long hand over
and
touch

me down to my grave—

cradle me and set me in the
crib of centuries &

years of us.