"man always has two reasons for what he does: a good one, and the real one"

I have a secret.
If there seems to be something missing
and you're scared you'll never find it
everyone else seems to have it, and it looks nice
but no one has exactly made you feel like this,
Open your mind. That's what I did.
It's right there waiting.

peace cannot lead to change
if we do not have peace now (which we don't)
we must build tension until the world changes
peace can only come from change
meet them with opposition, force, and violence of passions
that eventually will turn the Earth.
it can't turn on its own-
and for all the batons and pepper spray in the world,
you can't stop it from spinning once it starts.

if I showed you every second the way I felt
we would both explode, or die, or both
I see the ******* stars in every time you move-
but I can't, and I wish you could understand
I tear you apart because it costs more to try and hold you together
if you saw in my eyes the way I spark in my soul
you would be absolutely shocked
and it would destroy everything we have. and for that
I'm sorry, so for now I will quietly
put to bed the flames, and I will douse them and sit quietly waiting
but, oh God- what a waste of love.

could I be the light I used to be?
I could, I'm sure I could
but I think the candle is being blown out
please, please, please just spark it, ignite it for me
and I can be the light of your life,
we can set each other free.

everyone seems to have a dream
a poet that must occupy their time
weaving words through the weary seams
an artist must dance their brush in line
with the natural beauty of rivers and streams
a dancer spends their evenings alone
forgetting who they are, at home
and can never be forgotten-
a violinist feels their fingers hum over the strings
and the far off mountain's distant thrum
calling to their soul-
everyone seems to have a dream,
a plan for the future, divine-
planned out by heaven before them
but the hard question is: what is mine?

like ships sailing in the night
why can't we just go where we might
intend, to break or bend, no burn
no end, just turn, turn, turn, and then
follow our paths, avoid God's wrath
despite these changing tides and snide
smiles underneath the surface of the crash
don't try and hide it, we all turn back
we all cry and dash away our tears
leaving our souls just a pile of-
forgetting our fears, forsaking the last
of us, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
who are the best of us? when is the past of us?

when it's just me and you the whole world seems to fall away
but in the bustle of the whole world, me and you seem to fall away
and doubt creeps in between us.

I never realized the discontent within me
or, I did, and I ignored it, happy to shut it out
when my soul didn't fit the definition of woman that God provided
I told myself, actually told myself, that I could be a man of Christ
and I held to that in the quiet of my heart, silently
When I was little I used to pray to God that he would make me a boy
I used to cry myself to sleep because there didn't seem to be a solution
there was no way, except for a miracle, maybe one day
I'd wake up and everything would feel right
and as my hips grew in I couldn't help feeling upset
that my jeans would never sag and I would never be angular
I didn't know that blocking out these thoughts wasn't normal
I didn't know that most everyone didn't have these thoughts
I used to dream about growing out my beard
I only watch straight **** and I'm not sure why but I think
it's because I have never seen myself as a woman
I used to play outside with my shirt off, fighting off the dog with my 'spear'
I thought I was a warrior, I thought I was a king
I thought I was one of God's golden angels
I thought my voice was low when I began to sing
I made friends with boys and had crushes on girls
just like all the other boys
and when they left me it was the saddest thing
My teachers told me I should just play with the girls
and I cried. What child, when told to wear a dress,
tells her mother that it was the worst day of her life?
What child wants to grow out her leg hair and have pecs, not *****
what child wants short hair and a beard and narrow hips
what child wants to kiss girls in a chivalrous manner, not
like a woman stealing a girl away from her heterosexuality,
what child feels like she's in a costume when she dresses up
and wears makeup, what child immediately removes her nail polish?
who am I? Am I who they say I am?

He asked me why I didn't 'dig' him
and I said, 'you're not my type'
but what I meant is,
I don't even like boys
and he said, 'who's better than me'
and I said 'a lot of people'
but what I meant is,
'have you seen Emma Watson?'
and adolfo wants me to be exactly who I am,
with a gut reaction,
every time
but for someone who has spent their whole life
hiding and lying and creating machinations
for someone whose every motion is watched and
analyzed so as not to give anything away
for someone who developed social skills because
she needed to conceal who she was
that is hard, it is hard, it is nearly impossible
because no matter how many times you tell me to 'say whatever I feel'
I cannot. I cannot. I cannot.
there are some things that must remain hidden.

Humans deserve so much more
than we give each other.
People are these perfect receptors and givers of love
and we deserve each other more than anything else
We deserve God and love
and happy-ever-afters
but that doesn't stop the reality of the situation
when people don't get what they deserve
and it's not selfish, but it is selfish
It's the most selfish thing they could do
But they need to be selfish,
when the pain is so much that there is no other solution-
you need to put your needs above others,
because you can only control yourself and your life.
But if me building a friendship with him would have changed anything,
or if they had planted the ******* grass seed earlier
so it would've been ******* green
or if I could hug her until I could breathe my will to live into her
I would. I would change everything
not so he had to go on living miserably
but so that he could have the chance
that one day it wouldn't be miserable anymore.
I would die so that everyone would forever be happy.
Christ did.
He didn't die for this, He didn't die for misery,
He died for hope- and we rejected Him, and
we loved less and less as years went by
and in the midst of turning away to our glorious 'freedom'
we forgot that we were happier before, and maybe this mental state
isn't what it should be, and maybe we should change something,
and maybe if we all just loved each other more, he'd still be here.
We've been cutting each other apart for years and
now we're reaping our grisly harvest.
But now he's gone. There is no closure,
No why
No how
Once they're off the cliff, you can no longer grasp their hands,
and no one sees a need to until they're broken on the chasm floor
"Oh, I would've held on tighter if I would've known!"
Whatever you would have done to save someone,
you should do to them every single day,
because you never know how close they are to falling off the edge.

you ******* twinkled at me
and you knew, so you did it again

what would you call 'art'
and when do you propose it stops?

do you realize my uniqueness?

nothing you confess
could make me love you less.

I cannot get detached
that is why that is why that is why
I stopped reading
because I forgot what reality was and how to get there
because I get detached too easily, I focus on one thing
and the galaxies take the shape of it
and the stars align along the arc of someone's nose or the
irregular beat of my heart
and that is it, that is what the world looks like,
there is no reality
that is why that is why that is why that is why that is why
a fantasy world is so dangerous and people say
you used to read so much why did you change
because I lack the distinction between the book and the world
and I must change because
I used to be depressed why did I change
I used to be anxious why did I change
that is why
I changed because I must and I have to and I cannot go back
I cannot return to the meadows and mystical fields of sickness and confusion
I am less than that but I must
constantly think of quantity rather than quality
and keep myself flitting from subject to subject
else I delve too deep
and lose grips on myself
again.

find some books to read and find whole worlds to fall in love with
because you deserve more than a fragment that someone wants to give you
you deserve a whole soul, something unlimited
but what you don't realize is you're already unlimited, you're boundless
so first, fall in love with yourself and then you know
then you know you're safe.

if the sun
e
     x
p  
   l
        o
d
     e
    d

what would you do
with your last week?

tired of the same track on replay
in blown out speakers pulsing
electric signals calling and commanding
and one motion after the other-
I can't wait for a short in the signal
you'd think all the rain would've done the job
but the song still plays, still plays.

I don't know how to explain the ache in my chest
I don't have words for a chronic emptiness, not numbness
but a keen awareness that the gap is there- I don't
have words. I'm all out of them. Pain, I think, suddenly
more than there has been, (it comes in waves),
but I was absolutely right that one drive
when I told myself this is the worst it will ever feel
and by God, it's only uphill from here.

what's killing me is myself, getting wrapped up
in bandages of my own broken worth,
choking to death laying in bed, immovable, until I raise my head,
find the strength to tear through
but this, alone, I cannot do-
what's giving me life is you.

I would like to not want to sleep so much
and truly be awake
and feel the cold air on my face
and shout into the wind.

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

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

"I want you to promise me something. If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you're scared that it's not the right thing. Even if you're scared it will cause problems. Even if you're scared it will burn your life to the ground. You say it. You say it out loud. And you go from there."

I'm tired of being heavy and wordy and preachy
and getting into debates
just wanting to discuss things
yeah, that's fine sometimes, but too much Plato
and not enough e e cummings
can cause a circuit short in the heart
When you're pumping too much in and out
and Talking Like Everything is Capitalized
and waving your hands
we're looking for some complex meaning to existence
a formula for happiness and our answer is a radical-
what exactly does it mean?
but we forgot in our endless quests for the light at the end of the tunnel
that if we put our ******* shining armor down for just a second
there's a field by our house that calling our name
and the flowers long to dance before your eyes
and the wind asks only this of us
and the grass has made one request:
we need not be too heavy
we need only be light.

all poetry does is create an aesthetic with words
all I can do is sit inside my room while lightning flakes
across the sky with fireflies and dragons of rain, gallons and gallons
drifting down in not-quite-a-race over my lukewarm roof
white faces sit together in black chairs while black faces dot the walls
I am warm now, when I used to be cold- but I don't know
if I can feel anymore, I'm rubbing my toes but they're numb
I don't know if anything is broken. Is anything broken?

I like my body when it is with your body
there's something so trusting with so much history
that I've been searching for, and when you laid
back in my arms we were home again, an
extension of my self, the formality of long past ages
a whole universe and less complex than that, but more
the rest of glaciers in valleys and snowflakes melting together
a breath, our heartbeats collide, my hand stays on your waist
we're alone in the whole world, looking out, but it is just us
it has always been just us.

What a feeling to be a king beside you, somehow
I wish I could be there now.

you're pointedly avoiding me again
I'm not gonna ******* invite myself over
and **** you
like what the ****
leave me alone
but don't leave me completely alone
just behave normally, please
this isn't helping anything
it's weird and it's uncomfortable and
it makes me feel like **** that you'd rather stand alone
than talk to a group of people that has me in it

we're all gonna die
so why won't God put things in our hearts that work together
one day my ashes will turn to ashes
and I think He is just trying to beat my lesson into me
and one day I'll learn, but I think before that,
to dust I shall return.

sometimes you have to bleed to know
that you're alive and have a soul

my heart bleeds a hell of a lot
as hearts do
as one does.

you'd thought it had died forever
and now it seems as though death is an
imaginary word- for some-country-not-ours
they sky had been gray for just a day too long,
your hair had grown darker and your eyes
forgot how green the grass could be;
flowers haven't been seen for months
your limbs locked beside you,
too many movie nights and not enough crazy nights
no one's cold hearts have any warm blood to pump; we're lizards
I don't think mine's beat in a minute
(it's been cold about that long)
the day wasn't friendly-
and now they are-
death, while it lasts, is the longest thing in the world
but just when you think you won't make it out:
the cycle begins again.

today is the day that
Christ has given us a hope.
everything we do is
foundationed on His love
that was expressed,
triumphantly,
in the greatest of glories
today.
He has beaten the only thing we thought was inevitable
He has conquered the 'one fact of human life'
He has shown us, we are unlimited,
because our patron, our guiding hand,
Our Father,
is someone who is unlimited-
and He has guided us
all for His glory,
that we may believe-
no one but Christ would endure what He endured,
only for me,
and no one but Christ could rise from the grave.

too often when you touch things, you bruise them.

I always feel like I have a losing hand
but this time I'm not sure because
I could just as well be rolling the dice alone
either way, I'm not winning anything.

one of the reasons I'm avoiding you is because
you're ******* toxic
and you bulldoze through other people's feelings
using your logic and intelligence
as an excuse to disvalue those around you
because to you, they're pawns for a purpose
and if they are irrelevant or not serving their purpose,
then they aren't even worthy humans
and you surely won't waste your attention on them
you think that everything is worth sacrificing
for a clear-cut, objective view of things
and what you've done is destroyed everything around you

I write, like most everyone else
to a nameless king or queen whom, at my beck and call
becomes my spouse; a star around which I orbit
a timeless way of dancing through the skies
because somehow, no matter when or where or lack thereof of whom I love-
be it the world of sin or heaven's Son- no matter where you lie,
even broken and torn in the earth or sea, deep ocean blue-
your name is always 'you'.

"Why do you look at me so much?"
maybe because I think God wove his best when He made your story
maybe because I think He struck gold when he built your heart
maybe because I think there's nothing more beautiful than your mind
maybe because I'd like to look through the world with your eyes
maybe because God made your hair to perfectly flow past my fingers
maybe because I'm in love with you
maybe because I have been in love with you
maybe because I was in love with you

silence.

..."What do you mean? No, I don't."

If I could fly,
I'd be coming right back home to you.
I think I might give up everything, just ask me to.
You'll never feel like you're alone,
I'll make this feel like home.
Pay attention, I hope that you listen
I was stumbling, looking in the dark, with an empty heart,
I let my guard down, right now I'm completely defenseless
for your eyes only, I show you my heart
for when you're lonely and forget who you are
and it's alright, calling out for somebody to hold tonight
when you're lost I'll find a way and I'll be your light
I'm missing half of me when we're apart
now you know me, for your eyes only
I'll make this feel like home.

it goes on.

breakeven (n.)

the point at which cost and income are equal and there is neither profit nor loss; also :  a financial result reflecting neither profit nor loss

slow down, we've got time left to be lazy,
all the kids have bloomed from babies
into flowers in our eyes
we've got fifty good years left to spend out in the garden
I don't care, to beg your pardon
we should live until we die.

"For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses himself?"

it's tomorrow and it's not a break
for anybody involved and I should go to bed
and it's not Christmas yet but it feels like it
my head hurts a bit but I can't change whatever
it is that is written on my skin, not yet
but in a years' time, I swear, but I only wish
I knew where I was going and that
this poem didn't end like this.

I write so many ******* love poems
and I still can't say it to your face.
no song can quite explain
how desperately I want
to pin you down and kiss you.
and how is it fair, God,
that I must endure such endless torture
just to learn how to love without
expecting anything in return

I am Taco Bell, the morning after a long night of sleepless driving through the country and you feel cold and warm and full and gross and fresh and your hair is falling around your face and your sight is blurred and you're hugging your pillow and you're there with the best people in the world
I am the moment after the moment before they hold you suspended on the rollercoaster, but more than that, I am the feeling of safety when you finish the loop and you're on a straight track for a while but you're still  rocketing through the sky
I am the feeling of hopelessness when you want to shout into the open air but you realize there are other people there so you just whisper to youself
I am waking up in a grassy field and putting on your shoes that are wet with dew and wondering how your sleeping bag got over here
I am standing under a waterfall and getting up the courage to dunk your head under it and I am the sudden and unstoppable ice cold but it is not ice, it is breathless and there is no one else there, this moment is just for you
I am when you tell a joke and no one laughs, but I am when you do something worthwhile and you know they are proud of you because they cried before you did
I am getting in the car at carline at the start of a long break and shouting back at the school as if it could hear you
I am the moment when you hear words that break your heart just after you feel them and just before you know what to think about them.