I'm a wounded dreamer
turned willful cynic
who rejects
the stained and shattered ideal
that anything earthly can be perfect.

And yet...

that night
under the lights,
those
mere
couple of minutes
in your arms
swaying to the music-
nothing could have made that moment better
which sounds an awful lot like perfection
to the ears
of this
wounded dreamer.

Blessed are you wounded
for beneath your scars lies healing.
Blessed are you wounded
for you have survived.
Blessed are you wounded
for in your pain you found life.
Blessed are you wounded
for, though the world stares
from a safe distance,
Christ stands near -
closer than any enemies,
closer than any friends,
closer than each tear.
And He holds you.

As far as the eyes can see,
there is nothing wrong with me.
They cannot see my broken heart,
or my wounded soul.
They cannot see this little girl
lost inside her own home.

- Stranger in this human shell

Her scars lay obscured,
shrouded by years of survival,
protected by safe distance,
masked by cosmetic smiles -
until you met her eyes
and there you shared
a fragment of her pain.
Wounded,
but after all,
the same wonderful woman.

As I walk
upon the
pavements,
rain fills the
atmosphere
with endless
rivers, the
people I
pass
create
gardens
of words,
ages will
pass, and
you may
always
relive the
lost art of
conversation,
where two
souls can
become
one, lushly
grown from
the eternity of
beautiful minds,
I pause,
as a tear
within
the oceans
of eyes
In this
night,
lanterns
of paradise,
unaware
of their
own
beauty,
I close
my eyes,
wishing to
sleep
forever,
under the
waterfall
flowing
until the
end of
time,
the
milky
way
opens
from
this chest,
a lighthouse
spreading
endless
depth,
reaching
the hearts
of the
wounded,
I awaken,
and see
a reflection
within the
glass of
a secluded
home,
a man
falls to
the ground
with his
hands
upon the
earth,
his dew
Is mine,
her dew
Is mine,
their
dew
Is the
cries of
my soul,
and so,
I open
my hands,
and cradle
the warmth
of this love
as a birthplace
of healing,
the sun
dawns
upon the
golden
waters,
I enter
the train
with the
other
passengers,
waiting
upon the
journey
to return
home

Words are all that I have now.
My possessions.
Keepsakes.
Somehow just melded into the backdrop.
Almost to tease at how I can not touch them anymore.
Connections and romances that sputtered and died out.
Seem less painful now.
But its hard to say when this numbing reality takes hold.
Things used to be..
Exciting.
And With each year under the belt.
The world becomes less enticing.
Shrinking the grand dream into a childish fairytale.
One that doesn't end with Happily Ever After.
But with Fin.
Its almost Ironic.
Spending ever waking moment trying to please people.
Doesn't equal a happy soul.
But making the self happy that isn't diluted with every single alteration society provides.
Well.
I have yet to see what peace is and I don't believe it takes bombs to prove a point.
In conversations or otherwise.
A slap in the face can turn heads and fracture minds.
Maybe I need to revisit myself.
Sadly there are doors even I can not open.
Nor perceive.
When all that I am.
and will be.
Is wasted on words.

Love O Love...
U Pour Pure Blood...
You had my soul with the innocent glitter...
Ahh..you slaughtered it with no jitter???
Wounded & Bruised I get into my last slumber.
As I fall freely...
I forgive you my love willingly...
Love O Love..
U Pour Pure Blood...

It started so well for a few weeks at least.
The raw heat of passion burned inside us both.
But I didn't really know you and you didn't know me.

Weeks turned to months and soon the flame died.  
The bright light flickered and dimmed.  
The control, the jealousy,
the torment of your love now
unrequited
burned in a different way.  
It burnt me and left painful scars.  
The need to run, escape from your love that confines me to a small box
with no way out.  
Restricting a lion shaping to now
a wounded cat.