Sometimes we stare
Into the eyes
Of oncoming cars
Merely for the thrill of it,

To pretend as they do in stories
That the good hero darts away
Just in time,
While the evil villain is crushed
Beneath the vehicle, blood on his lips.

We wait
Until the last possible moment
Pulling back
To understand
Which role we play.

“I dream; therefore, I am,” said the sage. \
Will my dreams come to fruition? \
I beseech Jah, The Transcendent One \
That I might attain the fulfillment of the promise. \

When Jah & Jesus sought \
To consecrate me \
I resisted them, \
I did not fathom myself worthy. \

I was enfettered by my Sea of Iniquities \
& unable to disentangle, liberate myself \
From the onerous & lethal wages \
Of Sin & Death. \

But now I have been emancipated, —experienced manumission \
By the Hand of The Deific Divine: \
My dreamcatcher, \
My salvific benison. \

To The Transcendent Dreamcatchers: \
Thank you for life, love, liberty, & your embrace. \
—You are Freedom, you are The Emblematization of Emancipation, you are The Insignia of Liberty; \
Therefore, you grant me the wings to soar. \

Please continue to be my aegis \
Your name being a bulwark against The Nightmarish Wraith of Tremulousness. \
Apropos of your Holy Spirit \
I wield a Bastion Heart. \

(—Se’ lah)

09-26-2025

Someday,
these words I write I’ll eventually say.
That old guitar I might remember to play.
My dreams will find a way,
when there’s hope for someday.

And next year,
I might find I’ve lost another fear,
but along with loss gained another tear.
The words I write you might never hear.

Why I still get up and try,
I can’t lie, I don’t truly know.
But I will myself to rise,
dry my eyes and give it a go.

Tomorrow
I may create a smile from my sorrow,
while living on the time that I borrow;
goes by so fast but feels so slow.

Why I get up and try,
I can’t lie, I don’t truly know.
Because I have yet to die
make a name for I and will it so.

Someday,
these words I write I’ll eventually say.
Create colours in this world of grey,
do my best to make them stay
if there is still hope for someday.

Your hesitation to leave
Was not an act of love
It was a crumb of hope
That you left for me
The doubts in your eyes
Reflected false promises
The uncertainty you had
Told me you would stay
But you cowered
From making a decision
You ran away
From giving me an answer
Your hesitations only
Ensured your departure
Would break me
More than I needed to be

I read somewhere during church that we will always fall just barely short of entering Heaven's pearly gates, no one is perfect or deserving enough as we all sin. While Jesus is said to have taken all our sin, he left us here to be with his father on the third day instead of leaving a body to rot like the rest of us.

He may have been perfect before, but our sins will forever stain his pure innocence. God had left him for that day, let him stay covered in filth and blood and pain, his own son. he took him up and forgave him because he was the only one "without" sin. yet if he took it from us, shouldn't he be called the only one with sins?

people commit sins all the time, but we are forgiven if we say a few words written hundreds of years ago and lay in water in a building built on greed.

Jesus is said to be both 100% God and 100% Human, but that math simply cannot add up.

If the universe and everything in it was made in 7 days, we should be advancing much quicker than we have.  

People often tell me that I should be an atheist if I don't believe in all this, but that's the thing;

I do believe. I love my god so dearly. it just pains me to think that we could possibly be stuck in a cycle of generational lies and forgetting the true meaning of what we are to do as good Christians.

Love God, Love People, Follow Jesus.

Fun fact: Taking the lords name in vain does not mean saying "Oh my God" or "God dang it" is a sin. It means, do not call Yourself God. we say gods name all the time, each and every single day, every hour, every few seconds really.

Gods name (YAHWEH) is like our breath. if we live and breathe God, then we breathe his name in (Yah) and out (weh) every few seconds to stay alive.
God is our life, our salvation.

I wish to share my thoughts, fears, and beliefs with other people, and rather than be ostracized for what I think or feel in my religion, I want to feel accepted and loved as Christians claim to do.

I want to feel like I can talk about things I don't understand, what I choose to believe, and my hopes to better myself in faith, without it meaning that I am a heretic. I choose to think God would want us to accept people no matter what they choose or how they think of things.

God is the all forgiving savior, would he really care if I choose to think it may have happened a bit differently than was written by men hundreds of years dead and buried?

I breathe Christ, just the same as you.

Speak life, Poets.

your idea of perfect is a girl with blonde hair, so when you say that you like me i look at you with a confused stare. i'd always wanted highlights - i used to hate that my hair was dark brown. i used to wish to be blonde, like i used to wish my hair was straight when i wore it down.

i used to wish for a lot of things - like not being the last choice, like not being afraid of public speaking and being more comfortable with my voice. like always being perfect, like always being completely okay. like always giving the benefit of the doubt, but you know what? i'm tired today.

your idea of perfect is a girl that looks absolutely beautiful but nothing like me. and that kind of perfect is something i will never be.

Toxic thoughts tonight
Doesn't mean they stay forever
Warning, bugging, horrifying me daily.

Relapse as a revelation

I. Confession

Dear self,

We find ourselves in the same predicament once again.
In a hospital with thoughts which are cycling at a speed of which I have no control.

II. The Snake and the Spirit

My delusions are so strong,
rooted in logic they must be so,
they have to be true no other choice.

Even my mind agrees
but I know, subconsciously she can’t be trusted. She can be as deceitful as Lucifer. A snake, laying in wait.
Patiently waiting to attack in this case my mental state.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I have been transported in a new world, even if it just for a while.

I see many futures all connected to a new world. I see it clear in my minds eyes; a world where that I could’ve lived in if a picked a different choice.
A parallel world others would call it.

This is not a lie.
Please do not say this is all part of the delusion

I know what is real. I don’t care what they say. It’s hard to convince me otherwise.

God what do you say?
…
Only silence: is that my answer?


But it has to be noted that unlike my first hospitalization there’s less confusion,

more understanding of its structure and rules although it might be a new location

The fundamental are much the same.

III. Rituals of the Parallel World

Change to scrubs.
Which mark me as a new patient: just like   the Bible verse said it is written
2 Corinthians 5:17
The old has passed away, now stand a new creation in Christ.

Wait some more like I’m in chapel awaiting a response. Keep awaiting in the hall, for my room.

Must be patient.
Remember it is written: 1 Thessalonians 5:14 be patient with everyone learn the virtue.

See the staff erasing all traces of its last occupant; Parallel world-
Just like how Jesus’ blood did erase the punishments of sin. How they both are gone.

Settle in. As the hours tick by wait for lunch, dinner in bed. Time to rest.

Feel the excess energy throughout my being. Try to sleep hours still tick by

Wake up fix the bed.
Remember it is written; Matthew 6:6.
In my room on my knees pray in private in the windowless dark room which provides the only cover as the rooms have no door.
Ignore the nurse that go by, or at least try. Thank god that this isn’t my tomb of despair.

Now it’s midday-
Fidget

Where can my peace be found?
God what do you say?
Remember it is written: Mathew 7:7.
It will be given.

The T.v glares.
I go and ask the nurse,
“Where can I worship?”
She hands me a pocket Bible.
”Will this do? It’s all we got.”

Take it like it’s the bread offering of the Eucharist, it might as well be.

However note that gives no reassurance, due to its lack of ownership, it has no name.

This Bible is nothing like mine which I filled with my annotations and personal questions to God.

More hours tick by, the angst still so intense.

Suddenly remember how songs can send me messages, ask a new nurse
“How can I access such music.”

IV. Songs as Scripture

Back in my room I’m transport back to church.

As music fills my area. Sing along, in worship mood I am delighted.

God is my savior in every space I inhabit.

Days drag by, has it been a week?

Rationality seep through once more.

The homesickness is heavy laden. When will I be free to go?

With all the rules my safety a top concern. Must wait to be assessed by professionals because they know all the facts.

They know better than I ever could, is that really so? But how can that be true?

V. The Cross I Carry

They don’t know me from Eve.
And my mental disease is not for them to handle. It’s not their weight to carry it’s my fate: the cross that I do bear.

So why aren’t I given autonomy of this choice. Don’t I get to decide when it’s safe for me to go back home?

Why do they say they know best?

Why do they dare take away my choice? Who gave them keys
to a gate
that locks up my freedom?

How do they not know that those walls that used to have me chain
Have been torn down
By a man who loves me and
Who spilled his blood, to set me free?

Why are they so set to limit my freedom?  Can’t they see on what I know is true?

VI. Why Am I Still Here?

God said it so; his blood set me free, so let me go.

So why am I still here
in this room
Without a door?