When they said they maybe coming home
so many hearts implored
and as they celebrated
I was distracted by
All the balloons flying high in the sky

There needs to be a change in the way I act
I'm wasting my time here
Videos, games, internet, facebook
Whatever I can get my hands on

There's a greater destination here
Of that I'm (mostly) sure
There was something there
Something felt
I don't want to be the man I am
If 'man' is the proper term for what I am

I can claim nothing
For I am nothing
I am no greater than the least of these
And I never have been
Take away all that I am
Strip me of everything I claim

From dust to dust
Ashes to ashes

During a vow of silence
I heard for the first time
While standing
I learned why so many sit,complacent
Through attempts to break me
I learned to deflect
As I carried great burdens
I learned the value of friends
And waking each morning
reminds me to teach it

A gathering storm,
called out to me,
in the voice of clouds:
             " Come out of gloom,
                and meet me, at once"
He too was in love,
buoyant and ready
for this adventure of passion,
breaking, if necessary
everything that stands
between him and his love.

                        There was a storm,
                        brewing in my heart too,
                                                        he knew,
fanning and spreading
  the fire of love
     faster than I can cope.
I ran out and flew
on the wings of the storm.
On the way to the mountains
we reached the rainbow's home,
where my love was waiting
in the wings,
for months of Sundays;
she was at the end of her tether.
                     We didn't have much time left
                        the looming shadow of death
                                 we saw south, at a  distance.
It didn't daunt us,
we dissolved in a flock of white doves-
jubilant white clouds that sailed towards east.
Above blue mountains
what a wonder, our love whispers were louder than thunder!
Then, softly we  fell as sad snow flakes,
on touching earth, we were drops of  sparkling dew.

I just sent an email to my Mom.
Part of me feels it
Part of me wonders if I'm overdramatic

I feel like ****.
Like, I feel different than when I felt depressed
But this is still not a place I want to be

Consistent
Draining
I never feel ok anymore.
I'm not even sure what ok feels like.

I keep wanting to drink for all the wrong reasons
I never get drunk
But I always want to reach that happy nirvana
That "tipsy enough to forget all your worries" place
There's something seriously wrong with me

I haven't actually talked to my family in AZ for over a month
I schedule skype dates with a woman I'll probably never see again
More than I do with my own father.
What type of **** is that?

I looked at ****, I ****** myself today.
I feel like the biggest ******* this planet has seen.

I also lack self forgiveness.

I got an email back from a priest today.
I told him I'd be interested in joining the priesthood
I realized I might have been lying,
But honestly,
I don't even know!
I feel like I'm sitting on my thumb,
Trying to figure out the world as it
Races by me,
Unwilling to stop and allow me to catch my breath
Or read the signs or understand a **** shred of anything

This is what I'm talking about
Part of me feels this,
And the other part just scoffs, and says I'm melodramatic
Pick yourself up
Dust yourself off and figure out
what the hell you're doing

I feel so alone anymore.
Like, if there's not someone by my side
I somehow lack basic humanity.
Like I need someone to be there
If they aren't, I'm obviously not worth much

I closed the blinds four different times today.
I didn't want the neighbors to see my actions.
After a certain point, I closed them to watch a movie
And I haven't opened them back up,
even though
it would probably cheer me up a great deal

This is probably one of the longest "poems"
I've ever written.
It's not poetry, it's freestyle
Not like it matters,
It's like an art major defining the different strokes that an artist used in a painting
Like I give a ****
It's still a painting

Lent is one of the hardest times of the year.
I feel it with every fiber of my being.
Nothing about this situation makes me feel ok.
I feel out of body, out of mind, out of soul.
I'm pretty sure, at this point, St. Peter wouldn't let me in.
In my heart of hearts I want it desperately, but
The rest of me still says no.

I'm so messed up it's ridiculous.
And I sent an email to my mom chronicling her son's failures
Her son's issues,
And why,
Her son
Needs to go back to a counselor
Because I'll be ****** if he's not "fixed" yet.

She was dancing on the edge with a giggle
Teasing and taunting him
with the danger of all he loved to be lost
Careless
Reckless was her exsistence
and he looked on wearily
but kept his distant
Pleading
"Please let her fall I've grown so tired of this"