I am the shaken Pepsi
not quite the dripping counter,
my bubblewrap not pierced by your hate
unable to decide between feelings of sanity and laughter.

Not conquered, as you believe,
high heavens from my pedestal I see
not taken by a spinning head or
dilated pupil, Jesus still stands by me.

Your reality is bleak
pixel perfect as the static clears,
white veil lifted, revealing satin lips,
the smallest attraction, uncovers your fears.

Don't fly your flag of purity quite yet
inconsistent of an angel,
feathers in your back
my own cuts bandaged by cello tape
and paint covers my cracks.

For there are too many wasted years with discarded binoculars,
discarded lovers, discarded lives.

Contemplating perfection
what this means to me
finding the truth that is lost
in a sea of fallacy,
flawless reflection
staring back at me
your beauty so accomplished
now becomes a legacy.

Sculpted and toned
your bones press against the skin,
eyes open wide now Bambi
no hiding from your sins
your unblemished surface
is really a facade
stop hiding behind
your eyelids
there's no need to be afraid,
whatever shrouded secrets
that lie inside your heart
always I'll accept you
we don't need to be apart.

As long as you remember this
your soul will slowly free,
and we'll pave the way for love
the way it's meant to be.

Eyes like the river,
smile of a fox,
beauty unsparing,
my heart stops.

Moles on his neck
grin on his face,
tall as a mountain
strong arms to embrace.

Laugh like the wind
wheat coloured hair,
funny and happy
without a care.

Boy does he have me
caught on a hook,
butterflies take off
just with one look.

Wakes me up
takes my hand,
kiss and tell
ladies man.

Has a girl
back at home,
blonde hair, little waist,
draws me in with his sweet words
patiently she waits.

He was never mine
I was never his,
nothing to bind us
not even a kiss.

A loss at first
my heart may bleed,
but I know God
my soul will feed.

Uphold me and strengthen
my weak tired wings,
and after a winter  
my heart starts to sing.

No longer a prey
caught in a net,
swim little fish
run far away.

The wind dances with the leaves
Usually this stills me
Sun playing on my fallen shoulders
I cannot feel His peace

My heart an arrow
Pointing to the truths I know
But my body when he touches me
Loses all capacity to slow

I please him
Hunger in his eyes appeased
Warm kisses, a rush
To him I cleave

My God forgotten
Conveniently pushed aside
In this moment I live
Afraid to get off this high

And when it's all over
An anchor is dragged through my soul
It weeps it cries
It screams to be whole

Again and again I play the same tune
The notes rise and fall
I know this melody
But I need the crescendo to stall

So many tears, prayers, pain
I try yet again to rebuild this wreck
But the true test awaits me
What will I do when he kisses my neck?

23 minutes till I see him once again
I want to run back to my home
Climb into my bed and cry
Cry for my virtue gone

Cry for what he took from me
Cry for what I gave
And cry for what I took from him
And dry my eyes on rain

We stole my husband's memory
We played with fire hot
And yes I burnt myself completely
But he is cool, unhurt

I ripped out my everything
And lay it on a tray
I hate what I've become
I gave myself away.

She sat beside the window, on the ledge. Her legs pulled towards her so that ankle touched bottom and knee, *****. Her shoulder angling towards the outside world. That awkward angle, yet slender and graceful the curve it creates.
The moon outside her window has waited till this haunted hour, when her thoughts are freed. She can feel the reverberating breathe of the night, the smokey wood aroma - like nothing else, enters her and she is uplifted.
This gift of midnight, given so freely. This is the story of the girl that fell in love with the moon.

Feeling God in that flame
that alights the heart,
and hearing that steady
rhythm of the rain.

A noble act
a sacrifice witnessed,
wind tousled hair
a weight being lifted.

Music thumping while
the world stops and moves away
A new dimension of life
living day by day.

I don't think that my Heavenly Father wears shoes,
And when I don't; I feel free,
I feel the grass between my toes, I feel the wind on my feet
As must He.

We wear them to protect our feet from dust,
And so that they're not bruised and cut.
But that's not a problem for Him i suppose,
As He cannot be damaged or hurt.

My Heavenly Father doesn't wear sandals,
As sometimes in paintings it's shown.
Why would He? He's eternal,
all fashions He's seen and He's known.

My Heavenly Father doesn't wear shoes,
And one day neither will I.
I'll be protected -
When I'm resurrected,
Sometime after I die.

So I'll put on my shoes every day
Until then,
And wait till I can untie my laces,
And be with my Heavenly Father again.