I'm the shining distraction that makes you fly
and maybe you're falling for it
my fools' gold
maybe my love's not real
but that's not the way it feels
and you've let me use you from the day we first met
but you're not done yet
falling for my
fools' gold.

is it a kindness that I have pined so many times
that my mind has learned how to be refused
and my soul has been taught a lesson from each new person I have loved
and my past has been dotted with scars when my heart broke in half
is it a kindness that I must suffer so
merely in order to grow, to understand the nature of a human person?
maybe there is something that is wrong with me,
that I can never find a healthy love, a good love,
that I do not bend myself over backwards for-
in all the loves I have experienced, I have broken myself
and beaten my own soul black and blue and hot red
over and over against a wall in my bathroom
as usual, the hardest part is sleeping alone
maybe I am not meant to have another, maybe
I am meant for this, forever.

It's so hard to forgive someone-
it's hard even to know what forgiveness is
should I agree that the wrong was necessary
should I sympathize with the wrongdoer
should I forget it ever happened
should I act as if it didn't
should I say something to you
I don't know. I don't know. All I know is when
I said, "I forgive you," even alone so no one heard,
a little piece of my heart unclenched,
a little shackle round my veins was let loose
and I knew then that when I said, "I forgive you,"
it was a better way of saying "I love you" and I knew that
the locks and loops holding me back were tied together
with my ability to forgive myself. I'm glad I saw this through.

You must not wonder, though you think it strange,
To see me hold my louring head so low,
And that mine eyes take no delight to range
About the gleams which on your face do grow.
The mouse which once hath broken out of trap
Is seldom ’ticèd with the trustless bait,
But lies aloof for fear of more mishap,
And feedeth still in doubt of deep deceit.
The scorchèd fly, which once hath ’scaped the flame,
Will hardly come to play again with fire,
Whereby I learn that grievous is the game
Which follows fancy dazzled by desire:
   So that I wink or else hold down my head,
   Because your blazing eyes my bale have bred.

when you leave someone because that's what they need
you don't ever really let them go
(and maybe that's the type of love they need.)

"Only tears can bring a dreamer back down to earth."

If I could write a poem by just throwing a bunch of imagery
on a page, then I would. And I do. For example, this weekend
was pounding floods filling up homes and clogging minds
thunderously down hills, lightning and fear, and then it was
fire in the sky and heat, steaming the water back up,
sunlight, sunburns, tank tops, sitting on concrete
running through the mud, staying up late, plans not made,
snowballs, dried throats, black coffee, red skies, board games
grass to wet to sit on, sleepy eyes, the first hint of summer, trees blooming,
washing our legs in the lake, school canceled, getting work done, with friends forever.
Soon I will be free. Am I not already free?
We talk about our futures and sing songs like we're
all gonna make it. Have we made it? Will we be alright?
Time rolls onward and forward and seasons pass and change
and I have my own car now. I will be eighteen years old soon.
I hope God stays with me. I hope I stay with God.

I don't care if I'm out of control,
if out of control is what I have to be
in order to break free.
so, you see, I couldn't give less of a ****
of anyone's opinion of me,
when it comes down to the wire,
those unwilling to try will fail
and I, well, I will succeed.

would anyone like to spend a day somewhere away, just free
without feeling like we have to be anywhere or do anything
without feeling like we even have to speak,
let's go, I'm ready to let you be you and let me be me.

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
-Albert Camus

my religion is not obedience
my religion is love
but in order to love, I must be obedient
to the one from whom love comes
I am not a slave to my church
I find love through my church,
and that is my choice-
do you begrudge me an increase in virtue?
do you want me to be more hateful?
I am loved, and I will love in return
of my own free will-
and I am ultimately free-
free to control my actions
for that is what free will is
ability to control one's self
so I have controlled myself and bent my heart and mind
to love
love
love
and love.
I am serving the best purpose there is-
and I'd like you beside me,
if you want to come.

I haven't exactly found someone like me, here,
I don't think- they're too dreamy, off in the clouds
those over there are so cynical, why
do they lie all the time? They would rather be indoors
they would like to avoid depth but wonder why they're restless
these ones are too dark, so pained- everything's a struggle
there is no 'I'm okay', but always, 'Why? Are you, really?'
these want to escape but don't, really
I've met girls with no imagination and boys with no depth
I love people, I do, I know they're all valuable-
but a part of me is looking for someone that I haven't met yet.

do you really dislike being with me that much?
When I say something funny, you giggle
and your eyes light up
and I thought we always had a great time.
Why don't you want to hang around me?
Isn't that what friends do?

all the songs we listen to tell us
"I just love them so much and if I just
love them enough and just write this song
then everything will work out and they'll love me too"
but that's not how it works, love is not a serenade
love is a relationship, a partnership and something
that isn't rehearsed or dramatic, it's a duet
of terrible voices as they try to harmonize and fail
but laugh, and dance together, and people who
are too uncomfortable to say what they feel
it can never be perfect, but it is musical, I think
just not what we expect- and we have to train ourselves
and relearn what it means to be a human person
we've been taught wrong. forget it. it's not what you think.

give me quiet music and quiet people any day
stop saying 'I think', it's obvious, isn't it, that you think
we all think, and that's why we're speaking, or not,
depending on the mood, give me a soft bed and warm food any day
I used to throttle myself on rollercoasters, I used to want
to run dry and smoke, and fester in the sun
follow your heart, they say, but what they don't realize
is that your heart changes directions- it is no compass
pointing towards your destiny- it is a tour guide
gently leading you along the scenic route this way and that
so follow it, maybe it won't lead you where you think
and it for sure won't leave you there for long
before you embark on another journey.

But don't you wanna see the world, boy
All the countries and the stars, boy
Just don't look them in the eyes, boy
You just gotta take their lives, boy
Let me take you for a drive, boy
Oh I swear you'll feel alive, boy

All you gotta do is trust that I'm being true
And do it for the people who love you.

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.)

if this is a game board, I'm not rolling the dice anymore.

maybe if you didn't want them to fight back
you shouldn't have brutalized them in the first place-
maybe, rather than hiding photos because you're scared of what they'll do,
you never repeat the actions that are in the photos
maybe start considering what you are doing
to be an act of terrorism (because it is)
and we're all just fighting for our own lives-
so stop taking everyone elses'.

and the next time anyone tries to play chess with me
I'm throwing the ******* board away
because I'm not a piece and it's not a ******* game.

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.

if we've worked for ourselves, we haven't become anybody
where we go depends on who we're fighting for.

God loves me,
doesn't He want me to be happy?
why must He do this
again and again
why,
why must I quaver with self doubt
bring myself to tears with doubt and shame
no one should feel like this, no one should be afraid
that their love for another person will send them to burn
for eternity- my eternity cannot be spent with someone else
and I am in agony, I feel as though
part of me is ripping in half
why do they tell me that it's because of sin
when it's just because they've been telling me
how dangerous and how evil, how wrong it is
that my soul wants something contrary to God's will
they've been telling me this over and over my whole life
it has never felt anything but right between me and God
until someone else came in and told me it wasn't
and I'm not sinning, I'm not acting, its just
the shape of my heart is different than they say God wants
but God fashioned my heart, didn't He?
did He not hold it in his hands and mold it with His fingertips,
teaching it how and whom to love
so that one day I may use it?
did He not plan every part of my heart out and
write my past and future,
why is it that I must ignore what He has written
into me with every pump of His own handiwork?

I used to be afraid it was written on my forehead
and now I want to *shout it from the rooftops

You're playing this little game, like,
slowly shift away from Maddie when she's standing on the balcony
and yell at her for yelling
and tell her, "GO," loudly,
like, "we don't want you here,"
and you laugh at my feelings as though they're
cliche and not worthy of your attention
and you ran away from me when I walked up
the stairwell, saying, "Watch out! she's coming!"
and I know you think it's funny
or it doesn't matter, but
if you only knew how much I loved you,
you wouldn't dare. and I think when I
gave you that hurt look just now,
you knew you had pushed me too hard
so hard that you might have broken me.

I am glad you sat down and thought about it
because I did too, and I know that
things happen and slip out accidentally and people grow up
and mistakes are made and forgiven and forgotten
and the sun hasn't shone in three days, and I know you are more than that
but I think I wanted you to realize how much you are
and how much you are worth- so that neither of us lose our muchness.
I think we're both growing up very quickly and with every day
and we both see the depths and breaking waves in each other
so I am very glad, very glad indeed, that things happen how they do
and things are said how they are, even if they are wrong,
mistaken- I am glad we can look at our mistakes and move on, and
because of the flaws, see that we are far greater than here and now
and our fallen understanding of the world- glad that you know
you are not just sentences and I could remind you of that, that
some things people say can prompt a self-analysis that reminds us
that we're good and healthy and strong and worthy- that we are,
quite literally, more than enough; that someone's words that begin
making you feel not enough can teach you to stand up, and say "No!"
That we know ourselves well enough to deny and refute the things
assumed about us, that we take it to heart and at last don't get hurt
because we know who we are too well for that. That we can
rise and overcome and grow with every moment. Together.
Thank you. And I'm glad I have you.

there is something pristine and sacred
about a lack of time, an instant, a moment
that makes the crude passage look shabby
in a particular second you look happier and fuller
and the cinematic reveal overshadows what it is
that lacks background music. and maybe
the reason why the world seems so lackluster
is because we fail to acknowledge that even the roughshod
worn-down edges of time's brutal, eroded field
are more beautiful and sacred than a moment
for time takes all and bends it and makes it wild-
the very thing that can take what is tame and untame it
(though the very act of change is control and
control seems to tame, it does not, it flows,)
it works its will but it works with
for it is nothing outside of matter and space
and a moment only looks, only glances at the majesty of existence
a moment is there and then it is gone, lost forever,
only to be watched from a distant lighthouse
vaguely trying to find the way home through the fog
but time is, has been, and will be the entirety
of all we know- it is endless, confusing, less perfect
than we thought it was- and that is more glorious
than anything we can possibly understand.

Yin or yang?
I have not always been both and neither
once, I was yin- dark,
within,
under,
intuitive-
I am now yang,
and every time I think of a color I
think of gold and white,
and my eyes reach towards the heavens
like it's a prize just for me
and I am supposed to be there
I draw wings on my paper
and remember having them-
not sure when.
I do not love myself because I am
special, or worthy,
or because I think I am capable on my own,
but the Father of the whole universe is my own Father,
for He makes me sacred with His presence,
and showers me with love-
how can I help but love myself?
There is God in me!
My very existence, God has given!

our God is the God of goodness, yes
but a God of goodness cannot bring Himself
to hate, disapprove, or separate Himself
He is love
and He welcomes you
you cannot run from Him
for He is there in all, and especially in you.

I have never had a monopoly on anything, have I?
I am not the best at being a lover-
I am not the best at my sport, I only play well when it is only up to me
I am not the best at school, or math
I am not the best artist, singer,
my violin playing has been slacking
it seems that the only thing I am best at is feeling, feeling love and hate, but even that is not true because sometimes I think I fabricate myself
and sometimes I think I am the best at thinking, but
even that is not true, I am not even a genius on the IQ scale,
I am the best at obsession, maybe
but there are those whose thoughts are so consumed with one thing
that the rest of their life takes a back seat
I am the best at love, self-sacrifical love,
maybe it's because I have not met someone who was more willing than I
or maybe it's because I have deluded myself and can't see
my actions for what they really are,
and there are those who speak kinder, who listen more,
I am not the best at anything,
maybe that is why I want so bad to be in an equal partnership
so that I am the best and most important thing,
if only to them, and they are the best and most important thing,
if only to me, and
together we have a monopoly on each other
and the rest of the world can go **** itself, for all we care.

we hugged goodbye and waited
and waited
struggling for conversation,
"that's the worst, when you say bye, and then you don't leave"
and you said, "no it's not."
you made me think
happily, I said
"wait. you're right. there's more time for visiting and spending time with each other"
I'm grateful for you
so I said, "when you leave, what do you do? do you say bye again? do you keep talking?"
and you said "you can say bye again"
and you stuck your hands in your pockets and shrugged with that cute
happy smile of yours
and then it was time to say bye again
and we hugged again.

am I good enough?
the answer is not
'I must work until I am'
or 'who am I to tell'
or 'but everyone else is better'
the answer is just 'yes'.

Nice, kind, and cool doesn't make good.
Goodness, beauty and truth together
are the heart of all that is valuable
it might be cool one day to do this or that
but cool doesn't mean anything to your eternal soul.
You will exist long past here and now
you have existed before your birth and you will exist
when the stars have fallen and the Earth is merely dust
when your body dies, the world will not stop spinning
but your soul will stay long after orbit has ceased.
Do you not see how trivial "cool" is now,
when all of our actions carry eternal weight?
Therefore seek eternal truths to guide eternal souls-
not what feels good, not what looks good
not what other people tell you is good
but what is good. Find that. Then do it.

when you forget the way my voice feels on your ears
and you pushed away the thoughts of my hands on your body
and the night no longer smells like me
and you don't jump when your phone rings
that's when I come back. That's when I came back.

what does it mean to matter to someone
and what does it mean when you've known them for so long
you can't wipe them off of your heart
and they'll always be there
their name repeats in whispers and when you're about to fall asleep
on your left hand, and in the eyes of others
so that when you see them, even if you are lost and you don't know where you stand
you see home in their eyes and you know the skies have planned for the two of you
to exist maybe not together, but to always be tethered
like a string, spinning with two weights, and when they come close
it's a terrifying crash and you leave again, but when you see her again
she's there, and no one will ever make you feel like she does
and no one will ever stay beside you like she does
because no one is who she is
and no one is who you are
and in a whole universe of people who think they've fallen in love
you know the truth: only you know what love is.
Only she has ever loved you.

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.

like a glacier, you rested heavily on my soul, and, leaving, carved me into a different shape than I had ever been seen in before.

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.

I told her a while ago, "If you knew what I knew about me,
you'd hate me."
Well, maybe not hate. You wouldn't approve
because most people talk about ****** things
with lust in their eyes
or if they had a negative experience, they were *****
but for me, it's different, because
what I did
was built on a sandy platform of lies.
"I love you,"
"You're the only one I ever want to be with,"
She must have seen through it. She must have known.
She seemed so broken that night.
It was like everything she had hoped for
was there, and yet it wasn't really,
because it wasn't like she expected.
And months later, when I finally couldn't hold back my
mis-directed guilt, I glided past so-and-so's number
and called her up
and left her fourteen voicemails in a row, to apologize.
I cried on the phone and I'm glad she didn't pick up.
If I became Mother Theresa,
and saved the lives of millions of children,
or gave my life serving,
or made a billion peoples' day every day,
I couldn't repay for the pain I caused her.
I have dedicated my life to Christ,
because of that one girl that I broke, offered her a chance
at her first crush and it was a false chance,
so I will pay every day and be a sun, see if
I can change things around for you, and you, and you
and make sure I never do any more harm.
I will strive and serve and become someone who could not,
("no, not her, she couldn't have!")
have hurt someone like I hurt her that night.
Last year at camp, the pained looks she gave me when I told
that fireside story, or when I sang to the guitar, or when I hung out
with my friends, couldn't possibly have hurt more.
And I can't even grasp how seeing me there hurt her.
No matter what I do,
It will never be enough.

once, I said to her,
'you don't understand'
to which she responded
'yes I do'
and I said
'how'
and she said
'I love you.'

she dances exactly like you
did when we played music loudly upstairs
and you eventually ended up on top of me
you wouldn't let me roll over and
years later at prom you came towards me
I felt like I wanted to ravage the deepest parts of you,
the parts I had left scarred and broken,
I wanted to ruthlessly love them until
you would never be whole without me
someone saw and said, you are not allowed to
look at her with those eyes, I know because I do those eyes
little did she know that I find myself giving those eyes
to people I'm not allowed to look at with those eyes
like her, today, she who is so much
and exactly, and yet
so far from you.

it is not by accident
we share the same mind
we are both willing to ask for help deciding
our levels of consciousness
you see the present and i see the past and the future
you guide me and show me how to laugh
our hearts have been inextricably tied
even now, i know what you are thinking,
i miss you more than you know,
i want you next to me,
do you remember when i felt so terrible that night
that i broke, thinking 'i need to apologize to ashton'
but i didn't, i scrolled through my contact list and i called you
because it was for you, it was all for you,
since the day that changed both our lives forever,
but we can never be together
because i cannot give you what you want
and i am undeserving of you,
and i will never make you have to see my father again,
but i am selfish enough to keep coming back to you myself
you said that i was the only one you missed
because we have history,
and like fire, i have blazed and trained myself
since three years ago, my hands have been cleansed and prepared for war,
we needed time to dance alone til God brought us back together,
and laying under the stars, we held hands
as a supernova bloomed, the star's age died
and so did our past, we are ready for each other now,
we are ready for each other now,
there is so much to write about,
we are ready for each other now,
but maybe we cannot be,
too much has transpired and i have seen the core of your being
and our paths have irreparably broken and crossed
we shall always be a part of each other
and maybe that is too much,
but maybe that is exactly what needs to be.

i have always liked big words and things with gravity
and not just moments but Moments
maybe that is why I feel the weight of us so perfectly
for I am truly meant for you
and you are truly meant for me

if I could simplify life down to a word or quote
an always or never, black or white
then I would. But I can't.
It's not that simple. We live a life of gray and sometimes.

I would like to feel as though a hole was cut into me
fully, deeply, and intensely
so that I cannot repair it and I do not
have to think hard about it before it breaks me
and I would like to be kicked in the gut with tears
and have my throat choked by something I can't escape
because the only sadness I have ever felt
is love or the lack of it- never anything permanent,
always a hope- and I would like to learn
how to deal with an absence of hope
so that I may help others who have none.

I guess maybe it's because I've left more scars
than I've taken
and skidded across the highways of too many
broken hearts
that I've never thought of myself as scarred
but I have to be- I must be,
car crashes leave more than just marks
and I've danced through this world not-too-lightly-
everything I've done has affected me some way, some how,
but they don't feel like scars- even though they're
mentally there, on my heart, forever;
the marks she left there when she saw that green light
and didn't go,
or when my light was red and I dashed through- destroying everything in my path.
I've been on fire millions of times.
Each of them tested and refined,
some of them destroyed.
my engine's been upgraded, revamped,
my paintjob's a horrid mess;
my insurance won't cover me much longer.
There's been so many flames-
my oil seems to act of it's own accord-
and maybe, just maybe, the scars that have been on my heart
are more often *burns.

"Some truths rise slowly,
that we are what we wait for,
and what waits for us."

strange to think we once had our terrified
shaking, heart pounding first kiss,
slipping on each other awkwardly and you asked
you had to ask, can I kiss you, and
that's what I was waiting for
and we once called each other on the phone all the time
and we once held each other impossibly close
I'm half a heart without you, sure
but my blood pumped straight out when you were gone
and all that blood was not once beautiful
it was just red.