I thought that perhaps he was an angel,
It seemed like he could read my thoughts...
I know now, that he was just a weary traveller,
An imposter among us,
Pretending that the curve of his back
was where he had once carried wings...
I see now that it is merely bent
from the weight of his conscience,
The weight of his burdens,
The weight of his own convictions...
If he had truly heard my thoughts
He never would have left me like this.
Cold and broken and alone...
My own back bends
with the weight of realization...
Yes. You can love someone with
your whole heart...
And yet they never hear a peep,
even when you're crying out their name
into the night, into the darkness...
And all that returns
Is the soft echo of your own whimpering...
But at least it has strengthened my spine,
And I am ready now
to reclaim my own wings...
I will always keep a soft place
in my heart, for only him...
I pray that he feels my gentle kiss
on his brow, some lonely night
when I am brave enough to take flight,
enter his dreams, and face the pain
he carried all these years in vain.
For now, I leave it in the hands of
fate. The Sun Dance continues...
As I prepare to fly.

Emotions tangle inside me
Like a twisting patch of briars,
I draw blood on the thorns
And search for you in the thicket,
But I cannot hear your voice.
I feel your body calling
Yet I cannot find the source.
From somewhere at my back
I can feel the eyes undress me,
I stand naked in the shadows
While their hungry minds assess me.
They have always come for me,
Though few are brave enough to stay.
I stand alone among the rains,
And the demi-gods, they prey,
Yet I am somehow unafraid
As every darkness leads to dawn,
Yes, every night must turn to day.
And so I only dream of you,
I trust you'll find me here again.

I’ve been searching for my salvation
In the bottom of a wine stained glass.
The pungent aroma of cheap merlot
Burrowing deep into my senses,
A sickly reminder of all the bitter tasting
memories
that I have yet to drown...
I sought my redemption from a walking corpse,
with a face like a rotted pumpkin,
sunken and scarred,
peddling his tiny bags of crystalline poison,
I carefully dropped the glittering shards of self hatred in the pipe
and watch with a desperate enthusiasm,
as the toxic pool bubbles
the glass blackening with the heat of the flame,
I greedily forced the murderous ribbons of smoke
deep down into my aching lungs...
As the chemicals saturate my bloodstream,
I embraced the familiar insanity...
Consumed by the depths
of such of falsely intense feelings....
The inspiration, wonder,
The exaggerated awareness....
As the roller coaster begins to crest the first incline,
I captured one fleeting moment of self acceptance....
But like any mind numbing and glorious high,
a soul numbing and inglorious low is certain to swiftly follow.
That’s when the sun decides to die,
and there is only one continuous night.
As cold and black and breathless as the farthest reach of space.
There, in my own personal darkness, I float about so lifelessly.
The sounds of forgotten laughter and the cry of my own soul
become a haunting chorus,
serenading me into my loneliest hour.
I mourn for the wasted time that I must surrender
to the unforgiving and bottomless well of earth’s collective past.
Every harsh word,
or loving word left unexpressed,
becomes a suture in the tender flesh of my heart.
Both  grief and guilt react like acid doused upon my self esteem,
convincing me of my worthlessness
and destroying the delicate flesh of my being.
I feel as if nobody truly knows me, understands me,
Or even cares.
I have only my addictions to comfort me, as they slowly eat my soul.
I yearn to fade away like the burning colors of a sunset,
Each brilliant shade growing darker and darker,
Then turning completely black, as we melt into the skyline
and become eternal and inseparable among the distant sea of stars.
My spring of hope finally dried out in the heat of my scathing emotional trials  
I am empty, lost, and spent.
Only God can renew me now.
I cry out to Him, I scream in anguish from the mountain top,
but my meager voice is but a pebble
cast into the mighty sea...
Swallowed up and carried away by the waves of raging wind.
I plead with Him in the night,
beneath a tear soaked bed sheet,
but the soft murmur of my own weeping is my only reply.
So I sing to Him,
and praise Him with the church’s congregation,
and He answers...
In the kindness of their voices,
the compassion in their eyes,
In the presence of their thankfulness and their honor for Him,
In the company of their steadfast faith in his power and righteousness
I am washed in his gentle, calming spirit.
Here, in the loving arms of his dedicated followers,
I am shone the true miracle of Jesus’ death,
The true gift of his life and his teachings:
The ability to live an honorable and harmonious life
full of joy and contentment.
The possibility of a man,
NO MATTER how ignorant or rebellious,
To completely tear down the old self,
To foster the rebirth
Of a new and more perfect self...
Through the awareness
of the unseen cord
that binds every human heart to another...
By respecting that we all have a predisposition for fear,
jealousy, anger, and pain,
and by knowing that we also have
an even greater capacity for love
and lasting achievement
Then we could have ever imagined...
And we must cultivate in this in ourselves
As well as our fellow man.
We truly ARE out brothers keeper.
And WE are our own condemnation,
Our OWN salvation...
The decision is ours to make.
Choose wisely...

"My Lord, why is there only one set of footprints?"

"Because, my child, sand people always walk in single file to hide their numbers."