I walk the streets
Looking for friends
I walk the streets in
The middle of the night
As I am in search of
Of friend life forms
But only to
Be met with hate
Only to be ridiculed
Only to be
Forced to fit in

When one self-medicates,
Sometimes they grab the nostrum
Rather than the cataplasm.
Trying to clean the well, they mistake belladonna for myristica.
Perhaps it was the region or the season,
Maybe the water table atop which they were building.
Were it a town,
Perhaps its citizen lacked hygiene
Or had no care to maintain things.
Maybe they sparsely talked things over
And thought little of one another.
Of the many circumstances,
It could've been the building materials
Or the architects.
The dictates we lay out
For ourselves and those around us
Rarely are truly followed
In the case of relations between each other,
And typically less so
In the case of the larger world.

can I obtain you
no you're a person
not a minecraft achievement

Falling in love; well at least falling for the person- the narrative
of our love, a romance narrated from a distance — seen in third
person. You’re the third person I find myself whispering, “I love
you,” sharing so much about myself, sharing so much that it
aches to be so personal.

Sometimes my words disappear under your breath; I’m fading
away, and not feeling as myself; no longer existing as a person-
impersonal.

I catch glimpses of uncertainty in your eyes, and I sense that my
many personalities can be overwhelming- please don’t take it so
personal. You sometimes feel diminished in their presence, as if
you’re non-personal

Yet, as the day draws to a close, my greatest desire remains:
to know you deeply and to call you, my person.

god is not a proper noun.
It’s more a job description.
Jesus is very different:
god embodied in a person

So, don’t go exploring
a systematic doctrine.
Begin with seeking out
a person worth discovering.

She feels like she is in the center of it all
Between the chaos and the peace she longs for
The day when she can close her eyes and shut out the noise
the days of joy that went past her as the minute hand races pass the hour we all hope would last a few minutes longer

She filled with peace but in her peace there is so much pain
I would know I listen to her when she decides to share her story
Her story is not the story of a princess and the prince
But I admire the determination cause once in a while she tell me that she too will eventually get her happy ending
That the hell hole that she is currently facing will be a thing of the past
She has a smile of the early morning sunrise
In her story even when she seems beaten and bruised
She still wants to fight
She gets up every morning to a battle and goes to sleep in her armour
I have to wonder if she sleeps most of her days

But am only a visitor thanks to her
Just like many others before It is only due to her kindness
Even though others were quick to voice their opinion about how they would do if they were in her shoes
I just do not think her story is for me to edit but to rather keep my thoughts to myself
I listen

The simplest message of understanding that I can put forth to you is...I believe in you. I believe in us. I forgive you. I'm here. I love you. That is all.

Listen with What a Wonderful World- Eva Cassidy version ❤️