O mortal man, what a pitiful creature you are!
A man is bound no matter how he looks at it.
The sinner is plagued by his sins. Each condemn him and he wonders if there is any hope for him.
The righteous is constantly tested to see if his faith is genuine and if his heart is resolved.

Welcome to planet earth, o mortal men, where the games begin that establish my destiny and yours.
Welcome to planet earth, o mortal men, where grey is a fallacy and only white and black exist.
Day bring day and night brings night. Work brings more work but is rest ever found?

You come with nothing and will leave with nothing, yet all work so hard for that which will disintegrate or be lost.
You smile and let go and sleep and ignore that outside this realm eternity will be explored.
You insult and detest, man’s only source of rest and thank a lost man for unearthing an idea that vomits on the living door.
Bye bye bound and mortal man, here on this detestable and fallen world, for as for me I gave in to the plea of the risen King.

I'm waiting for the train.
Its a really lovely day.
Theres a rainbow in the sky,
like sugar for my eyes.
The air is nicely crisp,
healing my cracked lips.
But over the hills hails a dark cloud,
a gauntlet called out aloud.
The train will now be departing at 9:22,
now what the **** am I supposed to do?
The weather gets slightly colder,
the rainbow gets bolder,
goes from rainbow to rain blowing.
The anger in me starts showing.
My lips are in agony,
my hands buried in either side of me.
And just as a raindrop hits me in the eye,
the train shows up,
at 10:05

She had holes of hurt she tried to hide me in,
asking me to love on only the parts of her
she could easily separate.

The sin of skin is that I willingly let her guide me in;
Foolishly falling through thighs
searching for the heart of the matter

When I  die
        (if my parents don't know)
        remember to weigh me judiciously with authorial intent.

Don't let my father go to the front
and tell everyone what a good daddy's girl I was
        how I loved fishing with him
        and wore my camo pants like a champ.
                                I was 2.
                                I didn't know better.

Don't let my mother's lip tremble
or let her say how much my writing made her cry
        how I spent my evenings worshiping textbooks
        and typing til 2 am for large red A's on my papers.
                                I was worshiping the body and mind of a guy
                                who never wanted me back.

Don't let my father see my body
        the tattoo next to my left hip bone
        the one I got my freshman year
                                because why the **** not.

Don't let my mother see my face
        the rings in my lip and nose and ears
        because they told me only ***** had those
                                and I wanted to see if they were right.

Don't let my father tell stories afterwards
        all my achievements and awards
        every 100% I ever gave.
                                He never told them to me.
                                He only has pride in the dead.

Don't let my mother tell stories afterwards
        because she'll get them right
        but tell them wrong.
                                She'll either laugh or cry halfway through
                                and I don't know which is worse.

Don't let my father sing the hymns
        or even say how much he loved hearing my voice.
                                I could never hear myself over him.

Don't let my mother lament that I never sang for her
        she knew why
                                she married him.

Don't let them tell you how I was a good Catholic girl
        who always went to mass
        and prayed the rosary on roadtrips
        and never ate meat on Fridays during Lent (not even on accident).
                                I stopped going to mass after freshman year
                                and never prayed while driving
                                and made it a point to eat as much meat
                                                            ­            as I possibly ******* could.

Don't let them tell you how I was a good sister
        how excited I was when she was born
        so helpful and caring.
                                She never fell off the bed when she was little.
                                I kicked her.

But especially don't let them trick you into thinking I was perfect.
        I do not want to be canonized by my parents
                who knew so little
                        and saw even less
                                because I hid myself away
                                        so they wouldn't be
                                                disappointed.

I­n fact,
don't let them come at all.
They'll be mourning the wrong girl.

Well I don't know how it happened
You just forgot, I guess

The pain receded
I kept breathing
And now...
I wish I hadn't seen that

It hurts to see you function
I hate to watch you love
...
I really hate to watch you love.


I wish you hadn't kissed me
In the wind
Genuine surprise coursing through my veins
I thought those sort of kisses were myths, all
My heart might have stopped

I wish you hadn't let me in
Serenades and rusty blades
Dreams and phone calls
Roller coasters and secret beer

The similarities bring me down
Why can't my soul mate stay my friend?

I hate the way you make me love you.
Every word, I miss the drawl
I used to talk that way.
My twangy southern voice has left and so has my love of spontaneity
You've wrecked it all

All I have is
Anger for your smile


Exploration
You touched my bones



Leave me alone.