eyeshadow ground into
a finely powdered bath rug
feet stained gold and as
straight as sink ringed coffee

(it's a perfect day
to run away
from all the crew neck
collars choking you)

fall face down into a
cornfield and climb
dead pine trees clear
up to the blackbirds

(i think you were once
upon a time the one who
never spent weekends
home and hurting)

i am not your past
not your mistakes
i am not who you used to be
but won't say it didn't shape me

(clattering red and
white checks skittering
across the floor as
hydrogenated oils)

i know you're
disappointed
sometimes in who
i've turned out to be

but i am also
disappointed
sometimes in who
i've turned out to be

(only ever thinking about
ceiling fans and my latest
mistakes or an odd assortment
of unspoken disagreements)

i can't breathe under
highway overpasses
in parking garages or when
my hands are made of leather.

(suburbia is just a
repainted mid-century
modern way of covering
up dysfunctional families)

here and there
then and again
i remember that you
probably don't love me anymore

i understand that
neglect destroyed you
but you don't understand
that involvement destroyed me.

Even as we danced,
there was no echo
of lovers lost...

The lake
was as a sheet of
glass that I thought would
crack
if we lost
a step.

The music
was the rhythm
of our hearts,
slow, but fierce
calm, but alive.

I taste the tearsdrops of
the heavens
bathe me in serenity.

I've known beauty,
but never perfection
not before this moment
melted my heart
and spread it like butter
over her love.

Yet, in the quiet
rapture,
there was a darkness.
Heartache troubled the
solace of the dance.
I drew back the blackened veil
and to my surprise
I found myself...
my identity...
buried for too long
in the misery of
flames of ire.

It was then
I knew
she
I would cherish
with abandon.

I stared
into her gentle eyes
I held
her trembling hand
I kissed
her doughy lips
and I loved
like sorrow
eclipsed.

As I sit in the station
A kid comes into view
Extremely obnoxious
Raunchy and rude
He wears lots of spikes
Has piercings galore
Wears his hair in a mohawk
Biker boots on the floor
My Flesh wants to judge him
As a Punk and a Freak
But my spirit is willing
For Your eyes to seek...

Oh, give me Your vision
Let me see through Your eyes
Let me not judge the lost ones
In no way despise
They could be Your jewels
They could be Your prize
Oh, let me be gentle
Let me see through Your eyes

I go to a restaurant
And there at the place
Stands a derelict person
With pain in his face
He stares at my burger
And it is clear
He's starving hungry
And covets my beer
Do I move from the window
And relinquish my seat?
Or buy him a burger
And french fries to eat...

Chorus

There's a lesbian woman
Next door where I am
She has a Butch haircut
Is hooked with a femme
She has a loud voice
A masculine walk
We never converse
We never talk
We say polite things
Goodbye & hello
But she might be hurting
How could I know?

Chorus

Jesus I'm blind
I'm deaf & I'm mute
I want Your compassion
I want to bear fruit
Let me see through Your eyes
Let me hear with Your ears
Let me speak with Your voice
Assuage all their fears
Give me Your hands
To dry all their tears

Chorus

The enemy waits
To tell them his lies
Let me feel Your mercy

Let me see through Your eyes


SoulSurvivor
(C) 8/31/2016

I see birds overhead.
Flying free.
Once again.
So many!
With white-tipped wings.
In the wind.
And I am reminded...
that God is setting me free.
From slavery.
I am flying free.
More every day.
And someday...
I will be free.
Completely.