The ruins of my sorrows wash up on the shore of my thoughts.
I look at the wreckage as I board the the dock of sailed dreams and bright stars-
The stars that lead the way.
I survived.
I reach down to inspect the damage, trying to pick up the broken pieces.
I look at the heart in my hand and remember how it once was beautiful.
Like the sounds of the heavens battling the emotions of the lands-
A sound that could send chills down the legs of the rocking chair,
And silence the creeks for once and for all.
The sounds that I’ve always taken solace in.
Because God is in the rain- and rain makes things grow.
Just hoping one day he’ll rain on me.
I dust off the broken heart, put it on my sleeve, and carry on.
I need to carry on.
I repeat this in the depths of my mind hoping to ignite the courage
Of the lost souls of Beowulf and Odysseus- Praying that Jesus will come through.
They always said that you become the stories you listen to.
So I try to paint my thoughts with memories of heroism-
In hopes of one day I might save myself.
The broken mirror on the wall shows more than my reflection.
The light gleaming through the cracks are refracted just enough
to show me the universe withheld in my eyes.
But without my heart, it all seems so distant, so far, if only I could reach in and grab it.
The smooth surface sends chills down my fingertips and heartbreak down my soul.
I close my eyes and bow my head. I kiss my finger and send the message to God.
Such a humbling experience to see all that you have destroyed because of your own folly.
If only I had payed more attention. If only I had gotten in God's good graces- If only.
If only I had died.
If only the pain I felt was proof of immortality could I find comfort fates company.
If only the voice so many have claimed to hear had whispered me to my dreams.
I can fix this.
My dad was a fixer. Only he left too soon to show me how.
But I’m sure I can find pieces of him when I clean up this mess.
And I’m sure I’ll also find the worst pieces of myself.
I guess I'll try my luck.