This is why I really hate the weekends
Because I'm faced with all my demons
They've been gone for a while
The silence is when I'm put under trial
When I'm tossed into this parched land
But I'll hold tightly onto the water in my hand
I'll rely on the peace granted through the pain
Like a drought awaits Your replenishing rain

I'm scared of my imagination
I'm scared of my own creation
I don't know what to do with my right side brain
It's the addict that I can't keep contained
I'm just stumbling around
Wandering if I should keep him bound
Or if I should take off the chains
I desire to help others through what I write
But I fear I'd be returning to my dark plight
Because every time I go jot something
I feel like I'm just stumbling
I need to take a careful pace
Careful not to put myself in a hazy place
I still have a bad taste
Of what I've gone through
I need more time before this can help you

I'm taking a break from these things where I stored my emotion
It causes too much commotion
I'm putting my mind on cruise control
I'm letting my Lord above take it all

No, I don't have writers block
I just felt pressure under the clock
As if there was an audience I have to please
Give me some time to think this through, please
I have not run out of art
I'm just looking into the beat
The blood has not stilled in my heart
I'm just trying to get back up on my feet

The most beautiful thing
I've ever seen
was a room full of mutant kids,
putting our hopes in our fists,
our souls set on fire
as we hold our hands higher.

thank you for lyrics that help us understand what it is we're going through, and thank you for giving us words so we know how to fight it

I'm afraid of my voice
Of what it may sound like
I'm scared to death of what you'll think
Because it could be the death of me
I must take it slowly
Or I'll lose it

I don't want to write about rootless things, that'd just be tending to the heatless fire
I want to write words that will inspire
But I feel like I'm not accomplishing what I desire
Oh Lord, take me higher

I use to feed on emotion
as if there was a stomach inside my brain.
I would chew on dark thoughts,
feasting on the thought that I'm insane.

But now I find on source of energy elsewhere,
on something that is set apart.
I feed on the joy in community and discipleship,
as if there is a stomach in my heart.

I wonder if it's her,
because I know God works in mysterious ways.

I wonder if it's still you,
because you're the one I still dream about.

I've never been one for conflict;
I'd even say I'm a chill dude.
But when I feel like someone's
blowing smoke between you
and me, I get a feeling I can't
describe, but all I know is if
they try something, I'll call in
the rest of our cavalry.

I wonder if it's still you,
because it's no longer the feeling I continue to miss, it's  y o u.

Hand me a paddle,
because you're not in this boat alone.
Your sea was once beautiful and blue,
but now rages where darkness has grown.
May I recall to you the rainbow,
that will show above these waters of emotion.
God's promise of our salvation,
and that He will not let you drown in this ocean.

i took the last sip of coffee
just as the record started

I think it would be neat to be like Banksy
To leave my mark on the world, still unknown
You won't know when I come or when I've gone
And no, don't ask me to write for your honor
You can't erase truth so don't prove me wrong
It's not prossible to bend reality and twist meaning
Just listen to my voice in what you're reading
My message known, but I don't want the glory
I'd give my real name, because I don't want a mask
But I don't want to hear any of the praise
God gave me gifts, so if anything, glorify Him
And I don't care for any of the ridicule
I'll tell you right now, my words won't be lenient
I don't want my name to be heard
I want my voice to be listened to

It's not notifications on my phone that brings down my grade
It's some fascinatingly odd void that notifies my brain of ideas and passions that become necessary for me to write down or I may just explode

From my words I want you to actually listen for something
You think how could he say this when he has everything
I feel for their pain, because I am a human being
I'll weep for the lost but won't praise any king

you
are the best part of my day
make my day
are my good days

I probably lost a lot of me,
but thanks, anyways, for setting me free.
I've made it to be the dark that is lost,
so I won't treat it like a loss.
My mind was buckled in shotty,
but now I'm taking back what belongs to me.

Even the ones we love the most
can be a prison to our heart.

I wonder if it's still you,
because no one else seems to fit.

twisting behind
both of my eyes,
opening doors
deepening faith

Have you ever noticed that at first,
you weren't really attracted to them,
but the more you got to know them,
and the more you two laughed together,
and the more you both smiled at each other,
and the more you fell in love,
the more beautiful they became,
and now they're nothing but beauty?

To a dreamer,
life is a dream.
To a writer,
the world is a writing.
To a lover,
their love is everything.

My mind recieves mores code
Messages most don't know
Channeling things to me
Told me I'm gone but no
Information I must take slow
Is anyone capable of listening?

Look at those little birds,
talking about their day,
in a language a lot can't understand,
words between the lines,
but they can't really listen,
because they're all talking at once.
And the telephone line that they sat upon
made me think about us,
suspended by a man-made media,
all talking at once, all trying to say something,
but no one hears, because we all talk at once,
and don't tend to listen.

I am a ghost,
one that the closest people
can see straight through.
But I'll deflect them,
transmute into someone else,
that way they won't know.

The truth is: I can't cut ties with the silence.
It will always be there.
My mind will always be tied
to the side that's easier.
But I've found a way to fight it.

I can do this on my own
Do I really think
God is worth following
When life gets hard
I have to fight for myself
But without God
I feel freedom
Following Him
Is a downfall
Protecting myself
Is my only desire
Living a life of obedience
Is ridiculous to think about
Without Jesus
Everything will be fine

there's nothing like
Guatemala
   there's nothing like
waking up to the sound of roosters
   there's nothing like
sitting up in that rickety bed, ready for another day of building a house, even though i went to bed like four hours before
   there's nothing like
slipping on an old hoodie and stepping out into that crisp morning air
   there's nothing like
Guatemalan coffee
   there's nothing like
the early morning conversations, consisting of lighthearted laughter and wise councel
   there's nothing like
simply sitting there, sipping my coffee, watching the sun slowly climb up the trees
   there's nothing like
how i miss these mornings
   and there's nothing like
how God uses that to remind me to serve His people in the mornings where i miss Guatemala

I'm fearful when I play our song alone
I'm careless when wear our rebel clothes
I'm ready when we sing this on the low
They'll try to make you give in, but
The demons don't control us
I'm lonely when we forget about our revel
I'm zealous when we go marching in our yellow
I'm steady when covered by my fellow rebels

the best feeling in the world
is to simply feel like yourself

Silence can be dangerous.
The quiet gives us room to think,
where our brains aren't occupied
by the commotion of day-to-day life.
It can be violent,
when we're met face-to-face
with what's going on in our head.
It's frightening,
when our thoughts are blatantky before us.
We're not caught up in the touch-and-go
sensation that distracts our mind from
what darkness dwells behind our skull.
It's always there, just sometimes
it applied a bit more pressure that usual.
But do not fear the stillness.
Daily life can chip away at our bones
until we're left feeling drained.
And sometimes, it's only when everythings's quiet
when we realize this.
We feel lost, hopeless, empty,
and we feal this reality.
But the only way to remedy
is to emerse yourself in the silence.
Do not run from it or find a way out;
let it soak in.
This can be a time where we piece things together,
where we polarize our thoughts,
where we can find the problem.
It may be scary at first.
It can feel lonesome.
But I promise you,
if you stay in your trench,
if you dwell in this darkness,
if you keep yourself here,
eventually, you will find the problem.
I've sat in the silence,
I've found the problem,
I've climbed over my wall.
It was painful,
but with people by my side,
I've made my way out of this trench.
I am a Dreamer,
and so are you.

I'm not at all pure,
But I hold the cure.
We're all diseased.
I hold onto the key.

I never really understood
Why you like coffee anyway
Having something so cold and bitter
To start your day

Or maybe it's just me
Acustomed to the customs of this world
A product of this day and age
And that why I couldn't see

A past so dark and dreary
Shown in your eyes cold and weary
Weak and beaten down
You fell away beneath the sound

To live again another day
In the quiet cliché of this café
Within the solitude of your own creation
You view the world through your imagination

That's why you would take a sip of bitterness
In this jaded and abstracted mind of yours
Now the only bridge to entity you'll let through
A gentle reminiscent of reality's grim kiss

Believe me, I care for you.
I do not know your full story,
and I can't look into your thoughts.
I have no waked in your shoes,
and I may have not gone through what you have.
I may never even understand,
but I know it's hard, and I know it feels hopeless.
I get what it feels like wanting to sleep forever,
as if it would make things better.
I know how it feels to be scared of what's inside,
and you fear for if people knew.
I feel for you when you think you can't change,
when you feel like this monster is a part of you.
You hate what you've become,
But at the same time it's the only escape.
It's an addiction--all of it--
and it's hard to get over.
Suicide may feel like the only solution,
but there's something that keeps you alive.
I love you, and I care for you.
I don't know you, but I truly do.
And because I do, I can't help but share this.
I'm broken.
I've given my life to God,
but I'm not close to being perfect,
and if you read through my poems,
you'll see I have some of the dark thoughts you do.
But I also have peace amidst this storm,
and I have a hope in my Lord.
God has gotten me so far,
and as He continues to work through my life,
I have peace and hope in His plan,
knowing He will continue to deliver me.
I want you to experience this as well,
because I care for you.
I'm here to talk.

If I didn't know better
I'd think you look a bit dead
Like a zombie with a limp
Hands held in front just for the thrill
But you're just sleepwalking
Scared of the pace of change
Afraid to fall put of formation
Talking just to say nothing
Walk with a hunch just proves nothing
I can't be the only one prone
To saying something
We stay in place
For the sake of our comfortability
But for the sake of fairness
And in the spirit of awareness
Can we try out this new point of view
Step around the corner and out of place
Give your life to something better
It's time to wake up

There's a problem with our society
Worse than insecurities, depression, and anxiety
It's how we deal with these problems
Rather, it's how we cause them
If we disagree, we're just wrong
We're put down and told we don't belong
We've not been given a reason for what not to say
We've learned to just hold our thoughts at bay
There are kids who want to talk but fear the label
So they remain quiet and in line, feeling disabled
We wonder why they'd come to school with a gun
Yet we allow where these thoughts begun
There are things missing from our history books
Hidden by the sole judgement of how we look
Drown out the world with sound when alone
It's not their problem, but I don't have a home
A teacher never fails, it's you who takes the blow
But the greatest lessons we'll never know
They teach us the professional way
But we can **** ourselves with razorblades
We rather not talk about suicide
So we push the truth down even further to hide
We become a far more dangerous group of kids
Although it's our culture that forbids
Yet we glorify those of honor and praise
Celebrating them as they gave to the grave
Please don't be afraid of our opinion
But we think our culture treats losses like a win
Listen to me--these words are very convenient
Our opinion will not be lenient
Why is it we know them for their death
But otherwise, we don't care for their breath
We don't quite get what we're communicating
Death is a logical way is what we're saying
They begin to believe they're better off dead
But we must help them get through their head
Our voices are clear--we're demanding action
These people aren't worth it--they get a fraction
I mean no disrespect to who is left behind
But we must know this should not be glorified
We must understand what we're engraving
And the affects on how we're behaving
Do not give to the succession in a grave
But fight with us in the path that we pave
They need to know, together they will get far
This ambiguity is not who we are

I could post the depressing lines in my head
The flow is smoothe and the lines resonate
I could hold a celebration for another name
But the words would save me before I dissipate
Then that would just be returning to the dead
I've decided that between who would die
Ultimately I choose my name to be lame
And I choose my Father to glorify
So between you and I, I'll write for you instead

There's something about a blank
college-ruled notebook.
When I see one in the store, or even
just a page laying out on the table,
I'm enthralled.
I see opportunity, adventure, a
spark of creativty, and a mind
longing to roam free.

painted boy,
with trees on his skin,
uses the drums,
to fight anxiety and win.

skeleton kid,
with eyes haunted by ghosts,
reveals lyrics he once hid,
but he still thinks more than most.

mutant kids,
our hope in our fists,
decide to stay alive,
as our dying wish.