This all looks good, but where are your wounds?
My wounds? Yes, where are your nail marks?
Where are the scratches on your back from carrying
anothers' burden? Where is the blood you shed for your mother
where is the ache in your soul for the pains of your brother?
In the end, when anything and everything is lost
your wounds, on your tender and sacred heart, in sympathy and health
matter most, for the way you felt upon that cross
will be more than enough to pay your sins' cost.

the archer is not flighty but rather intensely focused
once fired, the arrow will pierce and remain
but I will gallop away the moment I want to leave
not a second sooner or later, and my mind is detached,
gone.

my favorite feeling is the hollow taste of tears in the back of my throat

little, and broken, but good
yeah, still good

the riptide drags me under
but I have a life boat, and not only that-
I can swim, and the man who holds my arms
as I cut away from pulls that I am not meant for
sick tides that bounce and roll, his name is-
well, His name is God.

he doesn't look a thing like Jesus

she may contain the urge to run away
but hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks
cetirizine your fever's gripped me again
never kisses—all you ever send are full stops

do you know where the wild things go?

Truth be told, I don't mind
not at all,
I'd rather sink in perfect peace
than count the stories as I fall

listen and feel, don't see
it's like I'm there again on that bus,
screaming and looking into the eyes
of people who shoot my veins with electricity,
we told each other that at that moment we would be happy to die
banging on the seats, bare hands and bare feet
crying and laughing and bursting through windows in tiny sprays
I never knew I could be loved in so many different ways.

if you're looking for a warm embrace
in the darkness- just look, we're already there
I'm here, we're here: with open arms.

I've never felt more alive than in this spring rain
in the midst of drops crashing through the air
they pick up dust, and in the galaxies and alley-corners
between them, the sky forgets about us
it has bigger things to worry about-
and so we breathe.

yes, He loves you absolutely, but because He loves you
He hates the parts of you that drive you away trom Him
even if you **** up, yeah, He still loves you
but you love Him less for it. a relationship
isn't when you catch yourself saying "I love you"
to an empty room at three in the morning- a relationship
is when you look into someone's eyes and neither of you have
to say it, but you do anyway, in broad daylight
God loves a murderer but the murderer does not love God
God loves you no matter what you do, but what you do
shows God and the whole world how much you love Him.

"Finding God is not the same as losing everything that is not God."

when my mind is clear of other voices
that is when I hear God most clearly
where am I to go? To whom?

I have aged a hundred years

in the arms of the ocean, deliver me
and I haven't forgotten that I am yours and you are mine
we're all sinking

from dust we came and to dust we shall return
dust is no weekend trip or a pleasant outing
it is your make-up, it is your fiber
it's not for the wealthy to take a trip there
you bathe in it every day and roll in it
you forget, though, what you were made for. We all do.

why is it that Jesus is my savior
my hope, the king, the ruler of the world
creator of the universe, Immanuel,
the Lamb, the Incarnation, the light,
the way, the truth, the life
alpha, omega, beginning and end
but from all these titles
the one that means most to me
is that He is my friend.

I shouldn't stay awake but
I can't fall asleep but
I'm scared to be alone but
I'm scared to be with anyone else but
maybe I'm scared to be myself but
maybe I'm scared to let someone love me but
maybe I love myself enough already but
maybe God loves me enough for all of us but
maybe I just want to be alone but
maybe I don't know how.

if I could open this window and fly out then I would
but my soul has already done that.
thanks be to God.

you don't realize how little of someone you need
until they are gone forever
and you don't forget how much of someone you need
until they are there all the time

unlock my chains, I am master of my soul
a bit older and wiser now, but free
I am free

if you only asked what I wanted from you
the answer is no more or less than what you can give me
but you didn't ask.

what used to be warm in your eyes looked like it had been hardened by something

I look out and see a different life than the one I had left

"I wish I was in love but I don't want to cause any pain."

in the end of all this I am still whole
I am different and I am more layered now
but I am still good. Yeah, still good.

a king (I am what you want me to be,
and I'm your worst fear
You'll find it in me)
an angel (I am more than memory
I am what might be, I am mystery.
You know me. So show me.)
a warrior (When I appear it's not so clear if
I'm a simple spirit or I'm flesh and blood)
an enchanter (And though you made me,
You can't change me
I'm the perfect stranger
Who knows you too well.)
a god (I'm your wish,
Your dream come true,
And I am your darkest nightmare too.)

call me by my name, please
it's been hard to lie for so long
and a guy could use a break

if there was an easy answer I would have chosen it already

it feels like a breath of fresh air when I've been suffocating for my whole life

how can I find home when I don't even live in my own body

we've all had Good Fridays
and we'll all rise again

spring has the world drunk and halfway dizzy with joy
I can hardly see reality for spinning

and I'm sorry that there are some things I can't do,
that I'll never be able to do, but it's about her,
it's always her. Never you. Never you.

there is something unifying about art
and something terrifyingly divisive
yes, we have all felt this- we are not alone in this theatre
millions of eyes have scraped this painting
thousands of hearts have beat to this music
and yet, no one will ever feel exactly the same way as you do
you will walk together, but not the same
supported, but alone
art reminds us of this- of the smallness of our beings
but the vastness of ourselves too, that to an ant I am an enormous mass
to the sky I am the smallest of matters, and to myself?
Why, to myself I am everything.
And one day, to someone else, I might be too.

The whole world will shatter, whether you forgive yourself or not.
The difference is that if you forgive yourself,
you will still be there, standing above the rubble.
You will still be whole, even if nothing else is.

you are not alone in this. No, you are not alone in this.
as brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand
hold your hand.

this life is so, so, beautiful
and I am grateful for being able to feel it
thank you, thank you, thank you God.

how many standard deviations and circle transpositions do we need
to be back to ourselves again? or were we always?
Maybe it is not the point on the line that defines who we are but the line itself.

will someone just tell me who I am
and will the rest of the world just let me be it?

the worst feeling is when you see yourself for who you are
and who you never can be, and all the things you've lost
and all the chances you'll never have and all the pretty girls you'll never touch
it's heartbreaking, isn't it, to know that you will never be what you should have been?

some dreams never do come true
some love doesn't hit the target

take it a little too far when you actually mean it

we're all just broken beauties with hot glue and duct tape
messing around with each other's hearts, sometimes burning ourselves
or each other, sometimes dropping things, or fixing it haphazardly
one half bigger than its opposite, or the seams straining and showing,
and yet, it's still art. We're still art.

lights will guide you home

I too have secrets and corners of my mind too dark to wander into
but we all do
and the sculpture of our hearts
wouldn't be the same without its highs and lows
bright places and shadows

parts of me breaking off with every instant
and parts of me growing, but always changing

the goal of love is to make every person you come into contact with
feel as though they are the most important one in your life
there can be nothing else.

imagine pastel colors, a warm breeze, and sand in between your toes
as you run down the street shouting, light hair ******* and your skin is hot
imagine eating with people you know love you at a table outside and then sleeping
in the sun, and the grass, and night feeling like an extension of day
with no time to worry and a rusty truck and people you've just met
laying on hot concrete and then leaving, driving very far away
and you're very dry and very damp and very hot and very cold
and the wind pulls its fingers through your salted hair
and you can scream to the world, though not in pain.