How long will this be?
I ask, sure I won't get an answer
Possibly because I already know the answer
But I'm tired of listening to my own voice
So I ask
When, God, will this end?
I'm tired of being my only friend
I'm tired of everything
Of nothing
Which is all there seems to be
So I ask
Why won't you have mercy on me?
I'm sure I'm made for more than this
Than school, than lust
Than foolishness
Addicted to the things I hate
Afflicted by bitter bait
With a sweet, sweet voice
And sour taste
I beg you Lord, please make haste.*
Will I, can I end it all?
The floor is creaking in the hall
So hide away your past afflictions
Current addictions
Your sin subscriptions
Hide them all and take His hand
I'm so thirsty for you God
But I keep drinking sand

Finally some peace.

Little and lonley it may be,

and yet it is peace.



I thank God for him,

and I thank God for letting

me live with him,

and without him.



He is my life.

And he is my death.

My beginning, my end.

My love and my hate.



He is #219.

and I thank God for his love.

Little and lonley it may be,

and yet is is love.

For every sleep there is a wake
And sleep may last but a wake will always come
For every darkness there is a light
And the light may be small but it cannot be blown away
In every heart there is a place
And a heart may break or stop beating but that place is always full
For every end there is a beginning
And often they will look the same, until a small voice speaks light into your heart -
And you wake up.

People say it can't be true
But I believe that I love you
People gawk and ahh and ooh
But I'm convinced you love me too
People think that I'm too young
Desperately to your arm I clung
They say we should wait to be together
And no matter how it hurts
I can't help envisioning forever

My life feels like a funeral without you here
He and I wander from place to place
Forever in black
When will you come back?
Everything is slow

New Year's is coming
And I hope you'll be there
Though you have to reason to
How will it be just us two?
It's been 9 years

You were my best friend then
Our best friend
And now you're gone
Has it really been that long?
How much more?

I watch the piano strings thrum
They shiver like my bones
At the sound of a Minor chord

I watch his pale fingers glide over the keys
They move as swiftly as I do to his lips
They are just as cold

I watch his face as he plays
His calm visage broken by a diminished triad
My heart broken by the pain in his face

I watch his lips move
Mouthing the words he's written
I weep that I can't hear him

We hold hands in church service
My back - board straight
A tree with gnarled roots
White knuckled focus
Your shoulders slumped
An old stone with weathered features
A fog of sleep clouds your face
And your fingers are limp in mine
When the band plays -
White knuckled focus
The tendons in your hand supple -
Out-standing
You tap imaginary chord patterns on the back of my hand
The muscles of your fingers being plucked like piano strings
Chord after chord
And I relax my shoulders
And become an old stone with you

It comes back in pieces
When I lie in a bed too big for me
With a blanket too heavy
A shut of the eyes
Spikes my adrenaline and the memory
Of the greasy wheel between my hands
My right foot slipping on the perforated pedal
The engine, tiny and angry
Purring like a asthmatic lion
The victory of pulling into first
The beginnings of a whiplash headache behind my ears
I see them
Grey and intertwined
Trying to focus on myself and my driving
And not that with every kiss they steal
Their happiness is being ****** away
And when the interest runs dry
I will be the pillar on which to lean

With the blow to the cheek
With a scream at the meek
With a bruise that I seek
I will stand
With a cut on my face
With (out) a place
With a Judge to my case
I will stand
With a gun to the head
With a prayer for the dead
With everything I've said
I will stand
With a knife twixt my ribs
With my friends and their kids
Gentleman, you may now make your bids
I will stand

With a ***** of your finger
You fall

It's really quiet.
The baby sleeps better than I ever will, if I ever will.
No one replies to my text messages.
Maybe their phone is dead, or at home -
But it still means they hadn't thought of me.

It's really dark.
I closed all the blinds and curtains, scared of what will melt out of or into the nighttime.
The baby sleeps with his door open, hardly afraid. I thought he would've wanted to sleep next to me for safety, and yet I wish I was sleeping near him for safety.

Sometimes a little body next to you is all you need.
Or a text message.
Or a little bit of sunlight.
Anybody.


Anybody?

Mnyamata
I'm not promising you I will marry you. I can't promise you that. We could break up, meet other people, things between us could go wrong, one of us could die or move away. **** happens. So when I say I'm going to marry you, I'm not promising. I'm telling you that I believe I will. That I want to SO badly my heart breaks every night I fall asleep without you. That I will do everything I can to make this last at least 3 more years until we can legally belong to each other. When I say I'm going to marry you, that isn't a promise. Those wedding vows I wrote a few months ago aren't a promise either, they are a rough draft. In the way that this relationship is a rough draft for a marriage. We can't promise to marry each other, we can just wait and wait and wait and wait. And then we can marry each other.
And maybe 3 years is too soon and one or both of us won't be ready yet. Maybe we'll need more time to be separate together, to be individuals in love, before we become a unit. Maybe. But maybe not. I can't promise you that either. And you can't promise me anything. Maybe we'll get married, maybe we won't. Maybe it'll be in 3 years, maybe in 6. I don't care. As long as God does what he wants for us, and we do what He wants for us, I know we'll be okay.
I desperately want to marry you and I'm going to try my hardest to make it happen, but I can't promise you it will. But that isn't a bad thing.

After all, I can promise that I am wickedly, pathetically, outrageously in love with you.

Ndimakukonda

There's apathy
And sympathy
Sarcasm
And atrophy
A pair of jeans
Extremely torn
A set of eyes
Both cold and warm
I hug you when
I have to go
You hug me back
Please don't let go
I'm scared that you
Will dislike me
Please fall in love
*Fall in love with me

The bad thing about a poetry
IS THAT I CAN'T SCREAM IT
And the worst thing about poetry
Is that you won't see it

When will this stop?
You stop?
I stop?
I'm tired of fighting
Of trying
To make you understand
God, I beg you
Make us understand
If I'm at fault then let it be
If you at fault, then forgive me
Has my violent love provoked her anger?
Memories of lullabies I sang her?
If there is something I can do
To prove to them Your words are true
That my intentions were of right
And not the coldness of the night
That she claims is in my heart
As if she's not known me all of life
Am I the one who has changed for the better, the worse?
Or is her pain the cause of all this strife?
I know that we are both at wrong
And yet, she only hears her song

My back hunches
Like a stuffed bookcase in a corner
Too full
My back laden with possibility
I find myself lost in a maze
Of what should be tranquility
Except you lurk there
Your eyes filled with miserable possibility
I've watched your pale fingers
Turn into twiggy claws
And your green eyes
The ones that look like the sea
Turn cracked and dark
Under the light of the grey sun
She clutches your shoulder
Cackling at how I search
For an exit
And exit from this maze
A maze of possibility
Her stature slouched and heavy
Her hands cold and grey
Stroke your thick hair
And I see the disgust in your eyes
And taste it on the air
I struggle through
Getting closer to you
Trapped in a maze of
Possiblity

You're no longer a person
You're just a poster
You're propaganda
You're a poser
You advertise
You black out our eyes
You're no longer a person
You're just a poster

Dear God -
Please let me be strong.
I don't know what he needs God - please tell me. Please help me. If he needs space, give me the strength to be alone for a while. If he needs me to be honest - give me the strength to be honest. If he needs me to be happy - God, please give me the insurmountable strength to be happy.
Show me how to love him. You know I've never done that right. Help me love him God.
Please tell him he doesn't need to feel guilty anymore. Tell him that he's okay and he has nothing to be ashamed of. Tell him how loved he is and how greatly he has improved me. Tell him how well he's doing and how proud and grateful I am. Tell me, please God, that he doesn't need to feel guilty.
God - remove all this selfishness and jealousy from my brain. The little part of me that wants to be jealous of the girl in the hospital because he seems to care more about her than me. Remove those lies from my head. I know they aren't true but Satan wants to convince me that I'm not good enough. I don't have anything to be jealous of. So I pray that she makes a speedy recovery and that she turns to you for relief and not to a bottle of pills.
God - give me the strength to tell Ryan all this in person so he doesn't have to keep guessing.

Amen

Rest well, my love
I have so much restlessness to give you
But you need to be there for it
Sleep well, my love
Because our darling dearest daughter won't care if you do
Eat well, my love
All the chocolate you want
Keep sweet on those bones
Laugh well, my love
I will provide you with many tears
Smile well, my love
You need the practice
Pray well, my love
In all your loneliness, in all my absence
You will always find Him
Stay healthy, stay strong
Love God, live long
Love me, and be
At peace
Amen

I've been losing myself in their arms
Though no arms wrapped around me
With one look
A story
With one slip of the tounge
An ending
With months of work and misery
A beginning
And in forty eight hours
It's lost, wrapped in the arms of the one who won't have me
Pressed to the jacket of the one who refused me
Held by the boy who does not love me
I finally lost it all in his arms
And now I sit with a hammer at my head between
My knees watching tears smack the floor at my feet

If I could have your lips pressed to mine like flowers
Pressed flowers
Pink and silky
Thick and silly
Sweet and milky
Pressed lips
And pressed flowers
He loves me
He loves me not

I'm spinning circles in my bedroom
And my hair is now a halo
I'm pretending I'm a dancer in my bedroom
And I am now

I'm singing songs inside my bedroom
And in my arms I hold a child
I'm pretending I'm a mother in my bedroom
Though I'm wild

I'm breaking bricks inside my bedroom
And on my face are beads of sweat
I'm pretending I'm a miner in my bedroom
And I fret

I'm writing poems in my bedroom
And in my heart there is a boy
I'm pretending I'm in love in my bedroom
And my heart is full of joy

Red is the proof of life
No matter how pale our skin may be
No matter how black and empty our eyes
We know that when we bleed
There flows the proof of life

I think you have too many shirts.
My closet is basically an overflow -
For yours.
I'm wearing one now.
It's hitched up over my nose so I can smell it.
It's red flannel, one of my favorites.
Your green sweater is on my floor.
It's lost your scent but -
It's still soft.
You really have too many shirts.
I'd have a garage sale but -
I like smelling them too much.
Sue me.

A knight in shining armor
Sun reflected on the steel
Distracts you from the blood
That has dried and he can't feel
A million militia
And miles of war
Spilled more blood
Than they ever saved before
They see no use in screaming
They see no use in you
They're trained to keep us bleeding
And that's what they're going to do
If these are my protectors
Who claim the night will **** me dead
If these are my protectors
I think I'll take the night instead

Um I wasn't done writing that.
said the girl with the eyes somewhere above her chest and the hair as black as *****.

I love you
I am sure now
And I'll never change my mind
I may die
Or cry
Or go
But I'll always know
I loved you so

They fly
Tires screaming against the wet rocks
You're in that one
And that one
Everyone that passes
I don't recognize my face
I don't recognize these cars
Their faces rust and brown under the sky
My face dries and pales
They offer an escape
And I offer a prison
Is my prison so pleasant, as to persuade you to choose it?
Is their escape into bliss, or turmoil?
They pile in the driveway and rot
I lay on the carpet and let myself my tears melt my cheeks
Am I so hopeless?
Are you so far gone?
This music is all the same
Copied and bought like popularity
I am going to cry today
Is that what I need?
I am overflowing with feelings I can't identify
Thoughts about those feelings
Thoughts about those thoughts
Perhaps crying will empty me
Will I prefer being empty and known?
To being full of something I can't understand?
Is writing the answer?
You are everywhere and in everything in see
She taps her foot and it makes me angry
Is she aware how ridiculous she looks?
Why do I see her this way?
I use my hands for journals
The ink will make me sick
But I need to remember, don't I?
I am disgusted by my desires for fiction
And enthralled and heartbroken over my desires for nonfiction
This carpet has walked under my feet since my feet were small
The stains are mine
The rips are mine
Where I sit is new, but feels old
Your scars are on this seat
Or so I'd like to believe
How can image define us?
It reflects not of who we are
We are all so ignorant of the inside
I cannot quit
I am scattered and lost
Can anyone put me back together?

Her heart is breaking
And she knows her life will leave her
But she stays quiet
Fearing no one will believe her

It's not my fault you won't reply
It's not my fault you're bitter
But you don't and you're not and I seem to recall
That's it's me who is the quitter

I've tripped in the middle of a race
And there's blood streaming down my face

Anxiety is - crying until you're catatonic.

Anxiety is - rage.

Depression is - not giving a **** if your poems make sense or if anyone likes them - you just need to get the words out as they come.

You run your fingers
Through your wet hair
And bare your teeth
Like a feral animal
Ready to devour me
I watch your strong, sure footed walk
Heavy boots clanking like cinder blocks
You always know exactly where you're going
Even when you claim you're blind
Warm, calloused hands hang at your sides
Teasing me
Now you sit there, reading physics
As if your dripping hair
And your wide shoulders
And your sure walk
And your warm hands
And that ******* pink lipped smirk
Were not enough to make me feel like I
Am Orual begging Cupid for a kiss
Pleading to unbutton every scrap of clothing
To see that perfect face and body
Pleading for me too

But I'm no Psyche
And you're no idiot
I'll never be Psyche for you

Driving pavement wet
Headphones keep me from silence
You aren't by my side

That grey gold curtain
Mexican restaurant glows
In the winter sun

You think you are dull
My heart is so very full
Of you and your laugh

Sleep like I'm right here
Piglet cheeks shine in the dark
Our pinkies touching

I want to ask God why he made heartbreak feel like a heart attack
Why I feel sharp pains radiating from my chest -
All the way to my fingertips
In short bursts
The pain liquefying into numbing dust
I feel the aching up through my neck -
Into my ears
My eyes start to water -
Not with tears
Almost like dirt had been blown into my face
I lose feeling in my legs
And the air dissipates from my lungs
All from seeing a half empty carton of raspberries in my refrigerator

This is when I feel real
Curled up with a dying battery
And a foggy head
Being told stories
And making up my own
Listening to music
And making up my own
None of them good
Just ramblings
Stomach rumbling
And I can't sneak out to the kitchen
So I lie in bed and hum my house to sleep
Trying to stay awake so I can keep feeling real

God is my master.
I love Him more than all in my life.
He is the Master of my mind, my body, my heart.
He is my Shepherd.
He is beautiful.
He is love.
He is perfect.
He loves me more than I can comprehend.

God is telling me to stay.
So I will stay.
I cannot leave my church.
I cannot leave my family.
I cannot leave my city.
This is where I belong.
This is where I belong.
This is where I belong.

I belong. I belong. I belong.

In God I am made pure.
In God I am made clean.
In God I am rinsed of my sin.
In God I am white as snow.

Countless second chances He has given me.
Dear Lord, I need another today.
Today - I ask You for forgiveness.
Make me clean again.

I pray for them.
Ryan Kimmy Chiso Becky Dave Iris Mom Dad Kellie Tim Grandma Tim Debbie Laura Grandpa Betty Cindy Lori Shea Asher John Al Brian Teri Pamm Louie Chris Michael Tristan Bailey Victor Nikkie Mailee Andrew The Zachary's Kylie Michael and Megan Jade Airika Allie Bill Moriah Madison Mike Lani Moriah Tori Lenni Todd Maddie Hilary Holly Bella Jamie JT Bella Abby Sarah Anna Rick Ashtin Aaron Aleasha Christian Brian Gus Abbie Jenn Alec Jean Lois Larry Ryan Jake Bud Erin Tyler Jasmine Launts Wendy Michael Bella Sam Tony Ryan Ian Deric Jen Sam Erin Hanna Jamie Chad Mia Laura Tony Alena Tyrus Jack Luke Jenny Greg Reagan Kennedy Wilson Konni Wayne Brian Cammy Trina Mike Kameron Kasey Nikki Lexi Jelly Harley Izzie Rosie DJ Lillian Adrian Avery Asher Tyler Heidi Dan Sarah Ryan Griffin Daniel Jessica Pax Cory Abel Chandra Dave Julia Bethany Chris Orion Lindsay Twila Tracy Brandon Nate Braeden Amanda Jonah Luke Crosby Charlie Mark Debbie Ian Joy Susan Catherine Jeff Jill Andy Anna Joel Jacquie Tracy Shelby Brenden Grace Bruna Brendan Jadan Ariel Rick Johnna Laila Becca Joren Skylar David Lovins Gettys Nanny Papa My Cousins Grace Wanda Lamont Michael Amy Stephanie Tyler Tim Jeff Anthony Mikayla Emily Emily Sabrina Thomas Caleb Rene Sabra Autumn Cort Riley Cole Kaylee Amber Eryn Christina Trinity Bethany Kati Ben Jacob Megan Megan

and so so many more

May God bless you and keep you
Amen

A week can start with blue
And end in red
A look can start at my feet
And end at my head
A day can start on the street
And end in my bed
A journey can start with a birth
And end when you're dead

Red hair
Everywhere
The water bleeding through the fabric of you
Red hair
Everywhere
I'm not sure if it's good or bad
But there's someting about you

It is with regret that I gave up on you
And it is with regret that I return

I'm tired of worrying about hurting your feelings.
You're tough - you can handle some honestly.
This -this offness that happens between us - is called codependency. It's when one of us becomes unhappy, and the other person can't stay happy because of it. Or when one person gets slightly disappointed or upset by something and let's it dig then into a hole they either can't or don't want to get out of, and then they take it out on their counterpart in various ways.
Ignoring them, not speaking, not interacting, withholding answers, withholding physical contact, refusing to provide the attention, affection or love the other person requires. It's selfishness.

You and I are both guilty of it. But recently it feels like you struggle the most. I'll mention something like family dinners will be moved to Sunday's for a while, which somewhat conflicts with the days we spend together - and you'll be disappointed that we don't get as much time together as you want.
I'll still be spending the whole day with you, I say, a fraction of it will just be at my house, with my family.
You'll say yes, family time is important, but I just want those days to be for us two.
Well guess what, when we're spending those days together, it's with YOUR family. I think your real problem is with my family. Even though you'll still be getting just as much time with me, which I'd think you'd be happy about, you're upset that it's not under your conditions. And you let it bother you and bother you until you refuse to acknowledge me.

This happens too often. It hurts me, badly and it hurts you, and it hurts us. When you're in a better mood, you and I can talk about it and you'll promise to try harder to be happy, promise to tell me what's wrong when I ask, and you never do. You don't seem to even try. I know it's not impossible to make yourself happy - I do it everyday. I do it for you, because I want you to be happy. But you seem to forget.

I don't want this to hurt us anymore. We shouldn't be feeling this way so often. I need you to be honest with me about how you feel, I need you to be willing to discuss it with me, I need you to try, please. I love you so much and I am choosing you, right now, I'm choosing this - and I'm choosing to finally be honest about what I'm feeling.
I need you back, I need your normal self.

I miss you. I miss my best friend. It feels like you're a different person when we have days like this. I know we can make it better, but I need you to try, for me. Please.

Mr. Miller says their is no resolve in life
Or jazz
The way everyone screams at me and curses
Foreshadows no resolve
Everyone is forgiving wrong
Everyone is loving wrong
Everyone is trying to prove each other wrong
But we're all wrong in the end
Love is no longer a hearts well
It is the dagger with which a starved man stabs his food
And the wedding ring
No longer wed
Is covered in the chocolate he stuffs in his mouth
Through his tears
There is no resolve
Only conflict

Time without
huuhh
The respirator
huuhh
Is good practice
huuhh
For the lungs
huuhh
But every breath
huuhh
Is still
huuhh
A ludicrous pain

You glanced at me with wonder, curiosity
There was a look in your eyes that I've seen a few times in others
When they've looked at me
I saw a gleam in your eyes that proved my prayers weren't wasted
At least not yet
But it could have been only the fluorescents

Of course it hurts to know you're with her
It hurts to almost hear it when you say
Though you won't admit this to anyone
"She did the right thing, and I pushed her away."

Its movies and books
And the way that we talk
Which is not often and not given much thought
But its what we do
And we do it well
I am blissfully falling
Straight into hell
Am I not?
Am I not?
Tell me I'm wrong
I don't have the voice
But I have found the song
Am I right?
Am I right?
Tell me I'm not
Though you are refreshing
You're unbearably hot
Your fingers are matches
And your eyes are sparks
Your arms are fireworks
And they're stiff as starch
And I know you could hurt me
If I am not protected
But I think that I'll risk it
I'll risk getting rejected

As I stumbled along the beach
If you can call it a beach
Too rocky and thick
But the rocks
Steel gray
Dark green
Pale blue
Dull gold
Milky white
Coal black
And deep red
Are still beautiful
As I walked on the rocky beach
Amongst the sandy driftwood
Clay and bones
The mountains turned pink with lust
For the golden sun
And the buildings on Camano
Shone in Her like fire
I watched the moon rise silently
And the golden fingers of the Sun creep back towards the horizon
I remembered the night when I got hit my a firework
And the embers merged with my skin and seared me
While the fireworks exploded in halos around your head
And you stared at me
I don't think the embers ever left my chest

If I was a guitar I'd be stringless
Empty and shallow and cold
Lifeless and loveless, never grow old
I have no purpose, no life

If I was a singer I'd be voiceless
Broken and beaten and still
No sound to whimper, without free will
I am a failure, a lie

You take my hand and run
I hold on tight, bright like the sun
You close your eyes and cry
I kiss your pale face dry
We are broken and loveless
We are beaten and boneless
We are the forgotten ones
And all we have is room to run

There is no mountain
I cannot climb
With you beside me

I fall asleep -
Curled up small above the cab of the camper -
My eyes drawn to the pools of night in your face below -
My hand hanging down so my fingers brush your forehead -
I stare, for as long as my eyes will stay open -
Below me -
The face of my forever.

I could do this little back and forth forever
I'm always here to tell you how I feel
You're not defined by what you find outside you
It's what I see and love that's really real

Dear Sammy,
I pray one day you'll read this and realize how far away you are from me.
I'm staring at the comic strip you drew for me on my birthday three years ago. You wrapped a jumbo Hershey's Bar in it and left it next to my backpack at school. I remember when my birthday used to mean something to you. I remember playing with you when we were three and four years old and dressing you up in my tutus and lipstick. I remember when you were my little brother.
I don't know who you are anymore.
You've been falling apart for so long and I tried my best to fix you. I should've done more, I should've told somebody. When you told me you wanted to **** yourself, I should've called your mother. But I tried to help you myself and I gave you attention and now that's all you want.
You still tell people you want to **** yourself. I know now that you just want attention. One day I fear you'll stop getting it and you'll actually **** yourself and I will fall to my knees and tear my hair out and wail and scream because you are so young and in so much pain and you tried so hard to leave me behind and now you've finally succeeded.
Now all you do is find girls and cheat on them and smoke and drink and swear and fight and you left Jesus and your big sister and your best friend in the chaos behind you and we cannot keep up. We've stopped trying. You don't want to listen. We don't want to talk. We just want you.
I haven't had a conversation with you in 3 years. I see you every ******* day and I talk to you and you hug me but you don't even see me anymore. And I don't know who I see anymore.
You have so much promise. So much talent. You are so smart. Sam, I love you so much. We all do. And despite what you think, your father does too.
I miss you. I've lost you and maybe it's my fault, maybe I should've done something more. But now you're too far gone, you've denied every shadow of your pain and therefore I cannot help you heal it.
I pray for you now. I pray for the little boy who I ate Mac and cheese with and built forts with. I pray for the star musician, for the painter, for the writer.
I pray for the boy who is killing his body and suffocating his heart and abandoning his family.

Sammy, please come home.