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9/18/09

The Boy With the Birthmark on His Right Lower Calf

1/7/10 8:36 pm
The first boy that left me was my first love, he was the first boy who ever called me beautiful and he made me feel that way for about 3 and a half months until the distance became to much to bare, but we kept in touch for about 5 years so I guess you can say it never really ended because the pull of our hearts still happen to burn for each other every now and again, he is one for the books because he's never walked away from me he's stood by me through countless arguments, but I think we will always be connected. He taught me what it's like to fall in love unfortunately he didn't teach me how to stop falling face first onto cold hard gravel because now that he has someone new, I'm completely off the rails. I hope he comes back and saves me soon. He is the only boy I can't ever seem to get enough of, he is like a drug, the minute he touches me my veins fill with a substance of desire and my heart speeds up to about ten beats a minute and all this proceeds to happen within mire seconds of reconnecting I can't even begin to describe how it's been these past 5 years still being able to get that same rush around that boy--and only that boy. He is a drug I would gladly overdose on.

6/20/13

The Boy With the Cold Heart & the Four Glass Eyes

9/3/13 10:45 pm
The second boy that left me was no where near as beautiful as the first but he was one for deep talks and insecure walks. He told me what he hated about himself and how self-conscious he really was, that before he became "Mr. Player" he was a loser who always felt alone. His body was not beautiful he was destruction at its finest, his skin stretched and felt like scratching cold silver, in all respects he was quite a disgusting filth though at the time I found him to be made out of gold but I was dead wrong for he was the worse kind of killer-- a true sociopath if you ask me but I mean what do I know I'm a ****** right? Although the only thing he wanted was to toy with me and trick me into trusting the devil, granted I should have never gotten involved with him in the first place, because he truly tore me to shreds and he was still a baby so maybe that's why things ended badly between us, because even though I was naive then, he's still quite immature, I wish I could say he's changed but he hasn't.

12/6/13

The Boy Who Made Me Feel Alive Again

12/27/13 1:08 pm
The third boy that left me, well unlike the second boy he didn't do damage he actually did magic by gently outlining the curvature of my spine and liking the thoughts inside my head before we ever even came face to face, he knew me through words and kissed me like he held a secret between his lips. He didn't like books but he liked my thoughts on paper and he listened quite intently, so I guess that was enough. I noted little details when we walked home in the dark, like the fact that he lit up whenever I spoke and he always looked me dead in the eye, however neither of us had been murdered. Or the way he sounded when he told me about his life, or even the fact that he'd risk injury from oncoming traffic because of his fearless physique, maybe he was just trying to impress me but these are a few things that were beautiful  about this boy. But yet again, happiness in the form of Father Time only stands at my doorstep for a month or so because on the 27th on the coldest month of the year he walked out without even a proper goodbye.

*(vm)
The non-overlapping magisterium,
a law stating that science and religion cannot intermix,
separate chords strung from the same cloth,
vines splitting at the intersection of faith and reason,
barbs flush against the skin of the common,
man thinks he learned,
but is far from wise.

To narrow your mind so steeply,
is to hold back all that you are,
to be cut off at the knee,
giving into a disposition for failure,
for often has both religion and science failed,
wars fought in the name of God and race,
non-existent color lines we paint on the inside of our sleeves.

Science does not represent evil,
and religion does not represent good,
they merely represent two sides of the same coin,
one the corporeal and the other the ethereal.

Aggression is as human as the need to breathe,
and kindness is a forced characteristic,
but do not cast aside the flame,
for love and fury are intertwined,
but do not confuse these with wrath and lust,
the difference is in motivation,
so if you seek truth,
stare both in the eye,
the material and transcendent,
God and Mammon,
the lord and the beast,
the father,
a representation of the good in the human heart,
hold close these virtues,
but do not suffocate them,
and if the father is good,
then the beast is the black sheep,
representing that darkness inherent in the heart of man,
this personification of evil,
a scapegoat,
although we are caught in the tempter's snare,
he is not the source,
and if he is your reflection,
love him first and cast him off second.

And if someone protests your belief in the abstract,
I say love them,
but I also say stand up,
and do what you feel is right,
and walk your own way,
not the path chosen for you.
A.P. Beckstead (2014)
I have a confession to make,
since I was a child,
I've been predisposed to anxiety,
fear and apprehension,
all barriers of the same kind,
sometimes I push through,
and sometimes I wallow,
letting it sink in late at night,
sitting on my roof waiting for sun to rise,
hand gripping my chest,
the place where I've been told my heart is.

It for this reason that I've always gravitated to the idea of courage,
not a lack thereof,
but the ability to surmount fear in favor of greener pastures,
but in truth we're all the same,
we share the same night sky,
the same sun,
born with a beating heart,
and with that heart comes fear,
fear of failure,
inadequacy stabs deeply the hearts of the young,
and as we age it lessens but it doesn't ever go away,
and sometimes there is a rarer form of fear,
the fear of success,
this fear is most often unnoticed,
but festers unseen as we go about our day to day,
for what would we do with wealth,
who are we to be loved,
and who are we to influence others?

Personally I am far more afraid of being successful,
for with abundance,
comes responsibility,
and ultimately,
more to lose,
but I think that if I live my life in fear of loss,
that I will find myself hapless and cornered,
cut off at all sides by my own insecurities,
parts separated by the mounting tension,
a culmination of what if's,
apprehension and loneliness,
similar by design,
two components of fear,
a common string we tie inside,
letting it show in our eyes.

I think fear is an interesting thing,
if not for fear,
mankind would have died off long ago,
fear is what gets us off our knees,
it starts us on the path,
but what is missing?
I have started walking countless times only to trip,
falling over my own feet,
inhibitions distilled in me as a child,
for the road is long and the solitude is overwhelming,
and somewhere in my heart I know that courage is what I'm missing,
I am afraid,
I am afraid of serving a God I do not know,
I am afraid of turning away a God that weeps for my sake,
I am afraid of meeting new people,
I am afraid of spending my life with one person,
I am afraid of change,
I am afraid of stagnation,
I am afraid of you,
I am afraid of myself,
I am afraid of fear,
and I am afraid of courage,
but courage is what keeps you going,
for it easier to give up and sit down,
for fear of stumbling,
or perhaps the fear of finding what lies ahead,
what will we find at the end of the road?

I choose to stand up and try again,
and I think that you'll agree,
it is better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all,
and it is better to die on your feet,
than to live on your knees.
A.P. Beckstead (2014)
There is something so tragic about being human,
we strive for the stars,
reaching upward,
but all we do is fail,
we are born imperfect with imperfect temperament,
and made imperfect through our own design,
there is something inherently wrong within us,
a mistake that alleles cannot shape,
a mistake that our parents,
despite their most urgent wishes,
cannot break,
a mistake so large that none are exempt,
and often we curse God,
blaming someone we've never known,
for the misfortune that festers in our hearts,
and when it comes down to it,
I don't think that,
even if he does exist,
that it is entirely his fault,
for although he mixed foolish,
childish,
and immature spirits in the same vat,
the disease is intrinsic,
and God did not make our spirits,
though perhaps through nimble hands,
he made us whole,
bodies tempered for pain and loss,
but we are the root of the evil,
there is no Devil at the source,
though influence us he might,
and so our stories are tragic,
we do what we can,
and then we die,
and maybe that's not the end of the story,
but if someone tells you they're not afraid of death,
they're lying,
few if any know what waits at the end,
the end of the path we as humans create,
but we have no choice,
there is no price that can shake the sorrow from our shoulders,
no payment large enough to replace our experience,
no substitute for the change we feel,
the love we feel,
the pain we feel,
and the loss inherent in life,
so I say live and let live,
but keep in mind the influence you have,
for good or for bad,
and keep your chin up,
set your jaw,
and cast your eyes towards the sky,
and the heavens above.
A.P. Beckstead (2014)
 Feb 2014 Stephanie miller
Jay
The words do not flow like they used to.
They hardly come to mind at all.
Maybe it's because I feel almost absolutely nothing
and am only comforted by the numbing sensation
of a love that is far too unreal.
All this time, I've been searching for something
and now, I feel like maybe
I've been searching for the wrong thing.
Maybe I've only been looking in the wrong places.
Maybe I'm too stubborn to accept the reality of a situation.
I'm afraid of a love that I can never feel.
I'm afraid that the distance between our bodies will always be kept
far greater than I can even fathom-
even if we were in the same room; holding hands.
I'm afraid the connections that our souls share
will quickly become tattered and cracked.
Maybe I was never destined for love.
Maybe I'm supposed to be alone forever.
Maybe I'm supposed to have my heart broken...
But, maybe, I'm supposed to break my own heart.
I think maybe I'm just meant to stay lonely.
Writer's Block.
Grandmother Willow said
listen to your heart, you will understand
but when it pounds all I want to do is run

my heart says so many things
one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me
the next it says hook line and sinker
and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says
nothing, it just
flutters and pitter patters

Mulan was always my favourite because
she had her heart broken and still
She Saved China
all on her own

my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry
stiff leaves
in Autumn
and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from
one place to the next
too rapidly,
I forget where I am
and where I just was a moment before I ended up
wherever I ended up

my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature,
it will melt for you
my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it,
everything I ever felt for you
won't exist anymore

a few months ago I was sitting at the back of
a midnight bus
in my hometown,
with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids,
a long dress and moccasins of black suede
when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face,
"you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?"

I don't get angry anymore
I just get tired
my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at
the sudden gong of recognition
in eye contact
that lasts longer than just a few seconds;
my heart awakens at sunsets,
when I am sitting in a tree alone
and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone

I've always thought highly of the two
disney cartoons
and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon
it's something like embodying the female
self-assurance,
strength of the soul,
embracing solitude like wind on a stroll
heart strong from a softening,
heart loved from singing just for singing
heart open like eye contact
that lasts longer than
just a few seconds
 Feb 2014 Stephanie miller
Jay
As far as your hopes, I appreciate them dearly,
for indeed, the temperature has been rising.
But, the fact of the matter is that it's the middle of winter.
I can't remember a time in which it's been
so cold.
And simply put, I'm only growing colder.
The spot where we laid in the lawn
has been dusted with snow
and nobody has visited me since you left.
Other's have tried, but, seldom stick around.
My porch grows more vast every day.
The slits between the beams become a reminder of my flaws.
And it is now that I fear
that the only thing that could ever warm me up again
is you.
Maybe if I wait until Spring.
I've built a Bridge
All of my strength  can not cross over.
I stand at the edge
The end of a road I have followed
Sinking!
From the weight of my own world
Wanting!
The waves of your ways to wash  my feet.

Healing water
Healing water
Solace flows
Through the river of forgiveness to my soul
Oh, I need you
Healing Water


Pour over me
Water to clean all my intentions.
Baptizing stream
I swim in the freedom of redemption.
Floating on the sea of purity.
Knowing i can dive in the love that rescues me.
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