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I want to hear
the rush of angels and
hearts beating fast to the sound of
redemption and revival, know that

there is a so that you can
attached to every do not
it's just that no one stayed long enough
for the sentence to finish. See how

glory is piercing the witching hour, so
come, restless ones,
lie by the streams and drift into
the song of lions and new wineskins.

There is a rising.
A rising.
Please start arising.
Arising.
Today we're arising.
Haha!
What a marvelous year it has been
Surely, there were ups and downs
Dark corners explored
Sharp twists, and turns
Hurricanes along my path
Earthquakes that shook me down
Marvelous..
Just marvelous...

To think I thought I wouldn't survive the journey
Well... I was proven wrong
By He who is.
Yet again He has brought me to my victories (just how He promised)

But it wasn't that bad...
Surely there were giants to be slain
Dark forces that opposed me along the way.
It really isn't that bad...
As long as you don't fight alone.

To win a battle is Triumphant!
but to share a victory with comrades...
Is a whole different feeling!
To fight by their side
Just gives you a whole new purpose...

Praise to the one who says, "I am who I am"
For He is who He is!
None can interfere His divine plan
For His sons, and daughters!

Although,
There's still a long way ahead of us
And that's for sure.
Although,
We can not see what lies ahead
He has already cleared the way...
For you,
And for me
So, fear not.
Just watch how He fights for you, and I
And you'll see...
How His mighty hand strikes down
Who ever dares go againts us.
Don't let fear take away your victories...
Every time I look you in the eye, I see thunderclouds. Yes, your laugh is silver bells on a spring day and your smile could have caused Mona Lisa to grin all the way in, but they’re right. Your eyes are the behind the scenes and your body is a movie. I don’t enjoy watching movies.

2. I can’t keep up with the storyline. Chapters fifteen and sixteen were about homecomings, and now the main character’s digging his own grave again. You never explained to me how he went from dancing in the moonlight to rubbing ash on his head, just when I thought we were getting already to the ******.

3. The wounds are reopening. I thought you knew better than to pick at the stitches.

4. Your heart must be handcuffed to mine. I feel it every time you hurt, every time you pull, every time you cry out and ask God, “Why?” The only difference is that every inch you move away is a sucker punch in my gut. I’ve never had a high tolerance for pain.

5. Do you know how many poems I’ve written about you? Try walking outside at night and count every street lamp from here to the opposite side of the sea. My words burn too, but they never seem to be bright enough for you to see. You’re still tripping in broad daylight.

6. I’m tired of standing behind you.

7. Hope is an anchor, but I’m starting to drown.

8. Sometimes I scream in frustration because the seeds are taking too long to grow. It’s so easy to forget that they will. It’s even easier to forget that I’m not the savior. But I try to be, so I’m putting down this yoke, little by little.

9. Seeds do grow and their trees make enough rings to tell stories to last generations.

10. I heard in a song that love alone is worth the fight. Maybe I’ll continue this battle long enough for you to see that we’ve already won this war, so that the next time I look at you in the eye, I’ll see the northern lights.
We are Hosea's wife; we are squandering this life, using people like ladders and words like knives. - Hosea's Wife, Brooke Fraser
the thought
of you
feels like butterflies
fluttering in my stomach,
but as my dreamer heart
gets injected
with more doses of reality
my stomach aches
as the butterflies
start to
eat through it.
the world watches
as a tragic
phenomena unfolds:
the deeper i
fall in love with you
the more i
am filled with hate
for myself
because
i know well
i cant have you,
i know too well
im not supposed too.
people say that
opposites attract but a
hurricane and an earthquake
is a calamity,
not a match.
but i cant help it and
i just feel so stupid and helpless
for helplessly loving you.
I wrote this poem about a month ago, but I haven't posted it for obvious reasons but YUCK as in KADIRI I can't believe I wrote this what the heck this is so horrible now I really hate myself ew boys asdhfkasjhdfkajshd ew
I am oatmeal with
two tablespoons of sugar topped with
a strawberry freshly sliced, thin enough to
slip between my lips and slide
down my throat
without me having to chew
I am trying my best not to spit out seeds.

I am a pair of faded shorts
a charcoal cotton sweater
an ugly red scarf and a pair of
frayed black Toms, but
sometimes I am a vintage dress
or camouflage pants, and
some days I am a string of pearls
I am still trying to find the perfect shoes.

I am a Philippine history book
repeating the same mistakes
refusing to learn from those who
now kiss cool marble
but there are days when I take
three steps forward where
I see they took one step back.
I am trying to scrape off towers to read the letters
our grandfathers wrote in the dirt.

I am a missing pencil
that drew lines and traced figures
under the bed and wrote
stories of empty seats being filled
and now that the fountain pens have dried up
I've been found.
I am scared, but I am giving until my lead runs out.

I am a fervent prayer
longing for redemption to win
and for the fighting to end
please, I just want to see
hearts beating to the rhythm of
the stars being breathed into place
I am hope,
or I am trying to be, I am
trying to be a lot of other things still
testing, still throwing, still keeping.

But most of all, I am still
the choices I make and
maybe tomorrow I'll have
some rice and tapa
and a lightly salted sunny side up
instead of oatmeal and I promise,
I won't be spitting out any seeds.
Tapa is a Filipino dish-- beef marinated in soy sauce and garlic and then fried. It's normally served with rice, fried egg, and vinegar.
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