Apparently, I haven’t been living my life
Up to the point where I don’t even know myself anymore
The reason I answer back to my parents is because of you
You are the reason why I smoke
Why swear words always somehow find a way out of my mouth
And why these drugs always end up in my bag
Yes, I’m talking to you
Media

The things you tell me appear like treasure
But not all that glitters are gold
Not all the sheep in the flock are white
Not all the fruits in the basket are sweet
Not everything you say is right
I thought you were great
But it turns out you’re just another liar

You,
You are like a blindfold that covers the truth
Like a deceiver that whispers in my ear
“Hey, it’s alright to steal, alright to ****, alright to destroy”

You put me into this abyss
Deeper and deeper I fall
Until the light is no more

But the fault isn’t all yours
I took the first step
I let you lead me down the wrong path
I,
I too was at fault
We all are at fault

But there is still hope
We can still escape this abyss
We can still untie this blindfold
We can still uncover the truth

But how?
How do we climb out?
How do we see again?
How,
How do we go back to the truth?

I tell you now, there is only one way
One. Way.

Through Him
The way,
The truth,
And the life

We must fix our eyes on God, and not on earthly things
For this world is only temporary
So let us build on what will last
And make the most out of our lives

Ephesians 5:15-16 says:
Be very careful, then, how you live
not as unwise but as wise,
Therefore do not be foolish,
But understand what the Lord’s will is

So I warn you here and now
Be careful with what you hear
Be careful with what you see
Because looks can be deceiving and your ears can be mishearing

So, media,
I quit
I am done following your ways
I am done being your slave
Starting today, everything I do
Will glorify Him and only
Him

Apparently, I haven’t been living my life
So I will start living it
And my reason will be You
And only You

I chase words and phrases
round and round inside my head.
My thoughts slide.
They are soft butter on a hot knife.

Dripping from the blade,
they slip, without pretense,
into my waiting hand.

I cup these thoughts in my palm,
and pour my melted butter words
onto your paper heart.

short legs
patched jeans
kicking leaves
piled to my knees

remembering color
living in sea salt pines
leaves little to imagine
of autumn rhymes

sweetgum sourwood birch
sycamore and dogwood
apple leaves beneath the plum tree
ash hickory maple and oak
mountains afire in Tennessee

eyes closed
smell of smoke-
kicking leaves
to the wind.

r ~ 9/16/14

today, i read our favourite book for the first time since you left me

i fiddled with the little edges of each page as i imagined the creases of our palms that once caressed it with a passion almost unknown to the world. how together, our fingertips caused friction between the prologue and epilogue that united our beginnings with endings so fervently. then, i remembered september 17:

when you told me to look out into the distance with my eyes closed tight to search deep within me so that when i opened my eyes, the image of you would be all that i kept inside from then on. when i opened my eyes, however, those brown eyes, black hair and chapped lips showed me the light amidst our darkness and clearance in the mist that we had pathetically created for ourselves.  it showed me the undeserving being that i had moulded, my own protagonist that i played as you fell in love with my facade and wall of escape.

you had fallen in love with a fool. a fool who read too deep between the lines and connected too many dots to form constellations that were unthought of. one that drank too much coffee and stayed up to form rivers and blood banks that could traumatise even the toughest man on earth. one who tried to stand in the middle of the road when the red man went on while the green man took his break.
one who let you go like a helium balloon liberated from tiny hands while you stood firm on cementless ground. one who ultimately failed to love you right, when love was all you needed.

and as i read those pages that bounded our heartstrings together, the idea of lost love and dog-earred arguments smacked me right in the face where your image had remained engrained. and as i stood alone in the alleyway where we had laid our remains, i replayed the way you left me that saturday and fell deep into the underground to suffocate, this time never to return.

he promised her things that only God could give yet with all of her whole, she believed:
because love was their (arcane) goal*

to them love was the roses, chocolates and the ever so cute 'goodnight' texts. it was the tiny 'XO's at the end of every love letter and the irresistible kisses on a bad day. it was them hiding under the sheets, ardently sharing every secret ever known to the world because the world that they knew was in their robust palms.

little did they know that love was also the screams on a terrible day, the tears of a tortuous heartbreak and the piercing 'goodbye's after repeated arguments. it was the shredding of past love letters, the tearing of photographs and the burning of every remembered moment that was reminiscently shared in the creases of their hands (or their clenched fists).

soon, the little lovebirds turned into fiery ravens because love was inexorable
-- it was the wings that made them fly (in which direction it did not matter).  the "lovers" chose to fly anyway because ultimately, love reminded them of the misplaced souls that they possessed.
(( though love only taught them of the ubiquity of hatred within them ))

she wrings the morning
from her paint soaked dress, dreaming
dragonflies hover
becoming sunlight dancing
vast, her fields of flowers bloom

For we have thought the larger thoughts
    And gone the shorter way.
And we have danced to devil's tunes,
    Shivering home to pray;
To serve one master in the night,
    Another in the day.