5 0 0 pieces or more
spill over six accounts
5 0 0 holes for fingers
opened over my skin
so  when  will i learn
to use my feet to seek?
so  when  will i learn
the blood  i  squeeze
will in time run dry?
the gills  that i cut
will swallow the knife?
no time better than now
no time like the present
  to remember to breathe
remember to walk toward
  not away
a comet on legs leaving
trails of  meteorites
no  time  better than now
the ropes of the past lace
through the toes to the wrists
how long has it taken?
how lucky am i that i
filled the flesh canvas
with angry scars and
still  have the  knife?
5 0 0 pieces or more
spill over six accounts
5 0 0 holes for fingers
opened over my skin
the detective is done
with the cold  case  blues
the detective is done
penning I 2 U s
there are enough mountains today
tomorrow and on for the detective
to be insane as long as they want
the detective is done
  with  the  cold  case  blues
   so case closed

We do not have to plead our case
For he took our place
Tracing back-to Genesis
When we were molded by His grace
His love demonstrate
Breaks
Gender and race
For we are all the same
It’s a shame
What we are today
Is not how we were made
To walk around with these chains
For we bear His image
Polish
To a perfect finish
But we’re stained with sinful *******
It's self to blame
Self-most fade
Our ego trade
For a righteous change
He paved the way
So that our sins will be erased
Our hearts engraved
With the message that saves
Demons shack
When they see His face
The devil races
Back to his cage
His love is like a flame
Power with in His name
From death the grave
To life, He reigns
Your guilt exchanged
With your sins paid
Forgiveness He give
Don’t have to wait
Come to Jesus today.

There's a real case for Bing Crosby,
Commercialism in every store,
You'll accentuate the positive with glee,
Singing along to Bing Crosby,
Soon it'll be a bit like Christmas, or
Cant in every store,
Instead of religious awe,
We'll overspend cos it's Christmas, yah,
Then we'll stuff ourselves on the day,
Cos Jesus was born on Christmas Day,
There's a real case for Bing Crosby,
Cant in every store, see!
Then you'll beg me not to sing Bing Crosby!
Sing along with me!!!

There has always been my family...

And My Family.

Day 1

I was born.
This girl was born to her parents not knowing anything. Living her life through school and music with her sisters and little brother, this is her life.
This is her family.
This is my family.

9th Grade

I meet a girl, and she is the definition of deafening headphone music and larger than life punk rock music. These types of instantaneous connections are too strong to ignore.
I knew right away, we would be friends.
She introduces me to her friends and I find myself in a group hug of my new friends, people who decided to accept me.
This is her family.
This is my family.

10th Grade

The same girl is my closest friend. But I am not her closest friend. I feel her pull away to be somebody else, and that is okay. I will often run to her crying and sad and she will do her best to pick me up. And she does.
The friend group we have is more like home than the house I sleep in. I forget about my parents and find comfort in the arms of my friends.
I feel conflicted about which family means more to me.
I tell her, "I know blood is thicker than water."
She tells me, "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

...I have never heard that before.

Is this her way of saying that we are more family than anything?
Maybe we are.
Or maybe we were.

We walk together knowing that we are never giving up on each other.
This is her family.
This is my family.

11th Grade

I meet another girl. A friend of a friend. Jealousy builds. Attention is a fight nobody wants to lose, I have become the 3rd party nobody asked for.
Families are supposed to fight. But now my family is not one that will fight for our happiness back.

But I want to.

I always have.

But I cannot fix this because I am not the only person involved.
Why are we fighting?!

Day X

I wish I could take back my mistakes.
One friend describes her life connected to 4 people... one of which is no longer talking to her.

And that one friend is also part of my family. And if losing 1 of 4 people you love is a tragedy, than for me...

It is losing 1 out of the 2 people I have left.
The two people I care for most will not talk to each other. And I am the biggest mediator the world never needed. But I cannot let go of either of the two people I love and care about.

I initiated the disaster. I started the dominoes. And I will pay for it.

I have to.

Nobody expected this catastrophe to affect me, or her, or the boyfriend, or the girlfriend, or the best friend, or the lost friend...

The victim
The aggressor
The manipulator
The cryer
The coward

Me

I cannot fix this with my own two hands.

I look at the two people I care for most.
They will not talk to each other.
And to a point, it is my fault.

I look at them.
We all had to suffer and bleed for this covenant of friendship and family.

This is their family.
This is my family.

This was my family.

I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned
collector's case left in a corner
to rot or do as I please without
so much but the guidance of the wind.

But the wind is not stable
and therefore neither am I,
I cannot tell whether I'm
imagining this all or
seeing it with my very eyes.
Reality and fantasy have
merged into one and
I can no longer tell the difference
between a dream or everyone's nightmare;
I die in both.

I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but if my soul's exterior had any texture,
right now it'd be peeling;
no it is not beautiful and it
cannot make fake roses
like an orange peel might.
There are no flowers here,
only a garden of late nights and tears.

Outside, spring is evolving
Inside, my lungs are decomposing.
I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned collector's
case left in a corner;
I am a case long closed ,
given up on and
I am collecting dust.