Everybody whom you come across in your life are able to plant seeds thus the indulgence. A seed which only reveals through a conscious state of mind and shall only come out at our full potential, deep contentment.

A miraculous progress fed on our consciousness, a triumph to self exploration and development towards the inner peace we want.
It is a purer form of self growth through self reflection upon actions, thoughts, feelings and experiences of ourselves and others.

So do not drift into shadows after a mistake, change or loss in life. Rather create an inner dialogue, explore your experiences and surround yourself with consciousness, a purer form of salvation shall be met.

So much has changed
to carry us this far
from that ****** up place
where we used to be
and I dearly appreciate
all you've altered in you
to be with me.

Yet no one should ever
have to fight themselves
to become other
than what they truly are
for another.

No one should sacrifice themselves
on anyone elses alter.

When you have to
stay away from them
and always just be quiet.

When you are in the darkness,
but forever wishing them light.

When you have to get
over them and move on.
When you are the weakest,
but always trying to be strong.

When you have to forgive
them for  not giving you
what you deserved.

When you have to understand
that sometimes you are
just never enough.

When you have to pretend
that you are fine without
them and act cold.

When you have to pretend
that you are nothing,
but brave and bold.

When you have to pretend
that you are always happy and high,
but deep down, only you know,
it's a lie.

All the pain
that you go through.
Believe me,
that's love too.

Once, Jesus said, you are saved. But I wonder.
Save for later? Save, is in, extract the good parts?
Save like, save the best for last? Or maybe:
Good save! Because I was right on the cusp of
falling on my face with my foot in my mouth.

Save, perhaps, like save the future and all humanity?
Or like a goalie keeps a ball from sailing into a net. To save us
from the Damnable Score. Or no—save to fix later.
Like a broken-down truck with a cracked engine
you might, some day, get to.

No, no, none of that fits, I conclude as I pour out a
second cup of bitterly strong coffee when I should be
at church on Easter Sunday.

There’s nothing to save. And who would know better about
what worth saving than me? This, as I pour the undeniably
burned second cup of coffee down the drain.

I guess we're all different
I don't know if I'll make
Maybe we'll find salvation in the words we write

Or are they a curse
A never ending burst
Of emotion
Of pain
And sorrow

But let's not think of that today :]

By now I know you're hungry
for your god,
and not the painted porcelain face
hanging on the cross
above your doorframe.

You want more now that you're
struggling,
a voice that you have conjured
in the mind you know
he gave you,

an image blended from
your idols,
arms you once learned love in,
eyes you never from which
could part.

But that's the best you'll get,
and a shame
no one told you sooner.
An idea of faith or
more like
a dream of salvation.

Starved.

"...because their deeds were evil."


(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXXVIII)


Lo, coffee just ere dinner, talking thence
Of I forget what now, and that detail
In passing of yes, "him" I in betrayl
Still have a crush on--what is real? and, whence?
So, pull up Instagram, to close it hence--
To find me snookered past erm, midnight, frail
As aught excuse, and O! Thy Scriptures hail
Me til I'd rather hear Thee, LORD, for sense.
What have I done, that lies cavort in tour
And feign they've substance like the Serpent too
Long ere used to thus ****** in truth her
That he deceived, and Adam?  What is new?
Thy mercies every morning.  Save me, poor
As asking from these lies' morass, won't You?

29Mar19d