Was it your alluring eyes
Or your mellow lips
Your crisp mellifluous voice
Or your ever sweet embrace
Your addictive love
Bound with
Your comforting embrace
Or being caressed
By your short arms
That left me, hiraeth,
but it got me
And it grabbed me good
Till this very day
I'd wish for a "hey"
Though
Not the priveledge for me
For a priveledge only for he

something is stirring. keeping me awake.
whirling inside me.
the groanings of my prayers that can't be expressed in words.
i have to let it out.
my spirit is clawing out in hunger.
reaching for food from Your hands.
crying out to learn the real meaning of Love.
the strength to smile at the unfaithful
the courage to welcome the desolate.

my whole life, i've been near dead on the inside.
knowing the basics, the foundations of You
but never up to par
never where i should be
i haven't yet felt the fire in my bones,
the outpouring holiness,
the purity of my cleansed soul,
but i can sense it's so near.

named after wisdom, but can't learn the second and third steps.
i have felt that i must have been doing something wrong
for so long
i can't shut it out
i can't turn a deaf ear to it any longer
my God
you have known me from the womb, you have loved me before i was even conceived
a babe, called Your daughter
who could ask a greater priveledge?

and yet
i sit.
and strain my ears
and rasp at my throat but there are no words
to truly describe these feelings.


rest assured
you'll get no sleep from my eyes
until these holes are filled
until these flaws are made whole
until these walls are broken down
when the day comes where You make Yourself real to me
the day i've been longing for
the day i hear Your will and your power
your unfailing love
i will become Your servant at the highest extent of my ability
i will not falter
i will stay faithful

i can't afford
to stray from You
ever again.

Love is near.
Love is REAL.
Love is here to stay.
Forever.

I WILL STAY FAITHFUL

is it too much to hope?
is it too much to say? that being with you, takes me away somewhere far beyond any length of the world, beyond space, beyond a time or a place...
is it too much to dream, to wish and to think?
is it too much to hold onto what you left me with...
a memory, a name, a trace of your soul, three words; no meaning, the leftover of another girl...
damaged and broken, pulling away threads
sewing you back up was a priveledge; to watch you mend
then unravelling your heart and your mind
swapping your trust for my lies
flinching whenever you called me 'mine'
was it all just the wrong time?

Trying to catch a slice of thought process;
Like capturing lightening in a jar
            Only to smell it's exhumes.

It's a blessed freedom, to release
  an experience; an imitation of the world,
or an imitation of how others wrote and expressed
    the world, and at constant conflict to lose it's voice.

It can be enjoyably difficult (the best hobbies
    usually are) or flow smooth as blood thru vein.
   Pulling blood from a stone and unexpectedly
    heaving rainbowy rainwater can be it's own virtue--

    An idea caught half undeveloped
Only to shed cocoon to join the white blankness
And forever tarnish it's history--

A gorgeous priveledge in it's constricted freedom
(As is existence,although we're too modest to admit it)

Writing is a piece of you and you belong to the human race,
and doubleedged a sword as that certitude is,
Writing is a piece of us left to the world.

Simple syncerity and drawn out breaths seem like a welcome mat to your presence now.....
My guard that was built out of broken promises and painful goodbyes seems non existent in your arms...
I stare into your eyes and see a place I hope i can watch grow forever and touch your lips and inhale pure lust from your lips...
Like when I stare at the way your imperfections tie all your beauty marks across your back together like a perfect universe....
How when you laugh and tthe teeth you try to hidde escape from there false prison to light the world for a brief second....
Or how you dance and sing like a soul hell bent only to spread chaotic contagious happiness....
Or how I never heard anyone protect me while I sleep.... Or felt like a hero when I only held your hand ......
Each day is a priveledge to call you my love and each minute im able ill reassure your doubt.....
That even though we went seperate ways i prayed for the day I could show you what true love is all about ....
Love you more than words Babe......

What is darkness to light
What is love to fright
The same as day to night
The only difference is the truth
One and one make three
Two and two make four
Its not what you say that makes you free
The only diffetence is the truth
So when you sware you do not care if you turn on my kind friend
And I say I will love you to the end
One of us is lying like a foe and the other
telling truth like a oak that will not bend
The only difference is the truth
And even one mends and the other breaks our heart
And you say that lifes a priveledge and I that true love is such an art
Yet you deny the difference before we even start
So in this act upon the globes time stage
you play your part as if not knowing
your bound to break my heart
The only difference that can save us is the truth and 10,000 hours to master love for two.

Surely Shirley didn’t mean to offend.
Author did she not refrain from abusing authority?
Look clearly for thou be blind!
Cruelty reeped from honesty & dignity
Blasted blasphemy! Thou art a rotten rind!
Were she worthy as some man, thy wouldn’t have chopped the hand.
Double standards fluctuate & permeate this society.
Thine eyes be blurry; for thou be blind!
Penalty penalizing from priveledge mentality.
On what basis did we bastardize women kind?

Pretty futures I have for own
Prettier fun, to live with a smile...
That came and went with none's imagination
Taken to a reasonable limit, for gift's of guile?

Penny saved, penny earned
The welcoming gaiety we show for song's
That we invent by memory, the rightness of a comely word
That has the same of a stone's throw, for asking wishes among

Priveledge, was the first to hear...
My time of curious eyes worth once more, knowing form
Of a house to promises that came, with mere
Truth and hail, the collection of similarity to add, are we home?

Natures of cares and the capable way we introduce, say most
The images of may, that have sensed the coming mine
Of worth, we learn to see, in the eyes of other's, a host
Of simplicity found, with the harbored season of dread we kind

Myriad moment's and monster's of the ordeal we seem...
A laughter has the silence to make the world stop, and keep...?
The bell's of very and many, with poise to have, a new whim
Misery loves company, but arm's of vagueness, we never be...?