Let me hear your thoughts
So loud I can feel your heart
So silent I’m drowned in your soul
So soft it will melt me to tears
I’ve experienced lies.
Been terrorized.
Confronted by spies.
Left alone to die.

I’ve been cast aside,
a victim of pride;
unseen by seeing eyes,
a master of disguise.

I’ve been misused,
I’ve been abused,
emotionally confused,
spiritually diffused.

I’ve been lead on;
turned around and he was gone.
I fell for a con
who vanished like the dawn.

Again and again I’ve been disrespected,
beaten down, undone, and misdirected.
I’ve been infected…

Torn down,
tossed around,
on the ground…
I might drown.

But wait! Aren’t I
sold out?
Set apart?
Stripped of doubt
with a sacred heart?

It somehow really, truly doesn’t matter,
not now and not ever. Not one single, solitary ounce.
It seems I’m insane and half deranged like the Mad Hatter
since the first chance they get, they always bounce.

To be fed heaps of dishonest truths,
to accept them with the unadulterated trust of youths,
only then to have your eyes opened to see the light…
Is there anyone out there who understands my plight?

We come into this world full of hopes and dreams,
pure and innocent, unaware of all things mean,
until one day we get cruelly met by malicious schemes
and suddenly our hearts and our hands are no longer clean.

The world comes at us like a predator after its prey.
It bites us and claws us and leads us astray.
It takes us, and rapes us, and has its own way,
not thinking, nor caring, when we’re left bare on display.

We’re taught growing up not to trust strangers,
and the ones at our backs are our friends.
How could we have anticipated the most danger
from a friend whose plastic mask finally descends?

It’s funny how those closest to us can cause the most damage,
because the second we let them in we’re at a disadvantage.
Or how we can feel the most lonely in a room full of people,
as if we’ve been banished for life to a solitary prison steeple.

Undervalued, unappreciated, unwelcome and unwanted;
overlooked, obnoxious, offensive and outcast;
hideous, heinous, horrifying and haunted;
disruptive, dysfunctional, desolate and downcast.

These are the words, the marks, that brand me like cattle;
but hush, don’t speak of them; it’s unwelcome prattle.
Well I’m sick of it, sick of the quiet; I want the whole world to rattle
from my cries of injustice, drawing all eyes to this battle!

I’ve experienced Truth,
allowed it to soothe
every scar from my youth.
I’m living proof.

I’ve been embraced;
the Victim replaced
like toxic waste.
I’ve been given a taste…

I’ve been rescued.
I’ve been excused.
I’m new and improved,
spiritually transfused.

I’ve been bought,
turned around and was sought.
I fell, but was taught
by a Love that burns hot.

Again and again I’ve been selected,
raised up, dusted off, and then corrected.
I’ve been protected…

Made new,
I got a clue.
I’ll give Him His due,
and He’ll change my view.

But wait! Aren’t I
full of doubt?
Failed art?
Foolish and stout,
with a faulty heart?

Even if that’s so, it really, truly doesn’t matter.
My God died to be with me eternally,
and now His redemptive blood covers me in a splatter,
to cleanse and revive me internally.

To be lavished with waves upon waves of the purest love,
and to receive them from Someone so gloriously high and above…
How could it not open your eyes to your immeasurable worth,
and give you insight as to why you were placed on this earth?

We were put in this world to be a light and a joy,
vivid and childlike, unaffected by all things obscene.
And one day we’ll touch someone and teach them to enjoy
this world of splendor and light that was previously unseen.

So next time, when the world is after us like a hunter on the prowl,
we’ll stop it, and face it, and kick it in the jowls.
Because no matter how harshly it screams or how loudly it howls,
we’ll know that its bite doesn’t come close to its growl.

We’ve been taught by sweet Love what we mean to the Savior,
because He shaped us and designed us all for His glory,
and when we grasp this knowledge it changes our behavior,
and this revelation and redemption become our own story.

Yes, it is true that our friends beat and bruise us.
They stab us in the backs, hurt, and confuse us.
But that doesn’t make it right, and doesn’t define who you are,
for the King of all Heaven has declared you a bright, shining star.

Warm, wise, welcome and wanted;
approachable, affectionate, adorable and accepted;
upbeat, useful, upstanding, and undaunted;
rare, regal, remarkable and respected.

These are the words, the promises, that cover me like a cloak.
When I hushed and asked God what He said of me, He spoke.
Now I can’t contain it; something inside of me broke,
And I feel for the first time that my true being awoke.
After an eye contact
A new story begins

Eye  uses,
A Universal  language
One feels
One  believes
One connects

Without a voice
Eyes speak.
Genre: Love
Theme: Universal language
John AD Mar 8

They keep leaving me,Because I'm sick
They always leave me,Because I'm Afraid to speak
They always leave me,Because I can't straighten the fact
They always leave me,Because I don't have the luck

They keep leaving me,and it makes me sad
They always leave me,the tears of a lad
They always leave me,things became pretty bad
They always leave me,I need a hug

Why do they always leave me with more questions?
In my mind, that keeps telling me that I'm a different person
Back from the past it's too late now to make this decision
I should sleep all day long and talk to my friends in my own imagination
I need someone to understand me
Mono Mar 3
I wonder why she writes

And he always speaks

She writes the truth

For he who can't say a lie

And yet in between

She couldn't tell

And he couldn't write

What was in their hearts

Before stars would spark

So in the end

She closes her notebook

As he finishes his speech

Mars Feb 28
All you ever need
Is fresh air and water
A reminder rewinds me
For my future to free me  
I have got to hold onto
The me at the start
An observant seed
That finished his thought
With a steady heart
And no need to speak
A moth set course for the sun
True to the start
Through clear eyes
An introverts chart
An endless blooming
Of intricate possibility
That speaks when asked
And says...
Oskar Erikson Feb 26
i am living in

the gaps of your              sentences.
waiting on each
intake of                                 air
trying to figure out

the right time to                breathe.
words call out to me
through the shadows of the day,
I thought you'd understand
you know me better
than any words can say.

I try not to speak,
afraid of words that hide inside,
silent flames burning in my eyes
scream to be seen,
but they shine too weak
E over c2 Feb 22
tell me
tell me what its like to speak
tell me what its like to speak in your mother tongue with confidence
tell me what its like to be able to speak your mind without stumbling over the words that you've know since childhood
tell me what its like to weep in words that make sense
in words that they might understand
or even you might understand
the language i speak doesn't speak to me and i beg it too everyday
but ill continue learning the other ones
maybe one day ill learn one that will want to talk
so that i may then speak my mind

forse è questa.
ma non so.
I hope your language speaks to you
Elliot Feb 17
you mistake my words
for a calling of pitty
when they are just words
that need to be spoken
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