I can't see where I'm going,
but like a blind man's hearing is heightened,
I will listen for the Lord's direction.

For long enough I've tended to a heatless fire
Scared of labels they press to uninspire
Tried to convince me this gloom was nothing
Then you'd think I'm demented or something
But at the same time my aloneness was hyped
Making me think I was of the insane type
But it's nice to hear my thoughts bounce off of you
Otherwise I don't know how I'd make it through

I must warn you of my condition
Could it really be depression?
It's a disorder I have yet to oblige
For now I'll call it a thorn in my side
But I promise you everything will be alright
I'll get through and I'll be just fine
This thorn in my side may give me some fear
But I've come to understand why it is here
This weakness is not something to hide behind
But a way for me to finally find
Those who are going through the same exercise
Learning with these people how to empathize
And teaching me that I must learn to consign
My thoughts and fears to leave them behind
May these sufferings be scars of my loyalty
And strengthen me in God's sovereignty
I will endure the thoughts I face all day long
Because it is in the Lord that I belong
Were it not for Him, I would have given to the grave
But in His power and goodness, I am saved

I'm better today than I have been
But I can't expect it again to happen
Lately it's been worse than it has in a while
But I know it's just my faith under trial
I've been tested like a ship at sea
The winds and the waves have come to suit me
But I won't let the ocean pull me asunder
Gravestones won't burry me and take me under
In time I know I'll recover
Recently I've been worse than I usually am
I wonder if I've chosen it
Or if I can choose not to think this way--
How to undo it if I can
I know the night will come again
But to play a part in the dark will not happen
I can't choose every moment to live in the day
Even if I tell myself to think that way,
The feeling won't stay
One day I will get over this wall of stone
Though I know I'm so far from home
For now, I am fighting to reach the morning light
One day, I know, I will leave behind this night

I could take the easy way
I could use one of the rootless poems
One without the depth of what I write for
Then they wouldn't know
They would just see talent
And I wouldn't have to fear for what they think
What they think about my thoughts
I'm afraid to get the truth that I'm alone
If it affected no one, or if no one spoke up
Then they would know, and I'd still be alone
But would I do it, if there was one person?
One person in that crowd,
Only one that fears their mind,
Who feels alone
Would I do it for them,
To let them know that there's more put their,
More like them?
Even if everyone figured out what I think?

I feel like there's no one to confide
Hiding behind walls that confine
There's a system where I'm walled in
A rhythm that keeps me in depression
It's a pattern within I craft fire to
But it's not what I desire to do
A wall is in my way and obstructs my view
Contained by the wall that sets my life in skew
With the help of my friends I'll reach the top
With the sound we make, I won't fear the drop
Sometimes I'm able to see the other side
Then I'll look back and find my mind is tied
These lies convince me I can't get over the wall
They hype up the doubts and make me fear I'll fall
Could it all just be one of the schemes
To make me believe in such silly things

Wouldn't it be great
If we could sleep away
The hours that abate
And wake up the next day?
But still I fear
When the day is done.
As night draws near
I pray I can overcome.

I'm burning, but still cold
Is it concerning
I'm tending to this fire
But it never grows much higher
All I want is a spark
An ember in the dark
You are my torch in this dry space
Be my light between two places
I don't want to walk alone
As I find my way back home

My opinion--
Life's worth living
Culture says,
"Might as well."
Problem is:
It won't sell
Death's addictive
But the price to live
Is worth the pay
So I will say,
"Please stick around.
I'll have you found."

I don't really know what's behind my skull
They talk too fast, and that's all I know
Whatever it says, I'll take it slow
I'll take my time to write, like I haven't been
Sitting here, I must let the silence seep in
Until I find the problem

Each of us has our own trench,
a black pit we must bare
before we can breathe in the morning air.
For those of us who fear the silence,
our trench is tended by depression.
But we must take a stand to enter in
to the pit of fear and silence.
I am not asking you to go to the bottom,
but to help me problem solve my problem.
No one can face down my demons for me,
but I'll need you to face me from the ridge,
as I cross over this silent bridge.
Cloak me with hope and encouragement
as I plummet down to dwell in my trench.
And I will sit here in the dark,
receiving the yellow letters you sent,
until I find what has me torn apart.

No, you don't have to keep me down from ledges
Or steal from me razor blades and shoe laces
But prop your door open with wooden wedges
For when I enter into these dark places

What's wrong with me?
What's my problem?
I want you to see
I need you following to the bottom
No, I am not enough
No, I am not enough
I cannot dig as far as I need to
Whithout them being here beside me too
But will I tell you?
I know, I'll fall if I don't
So why don't I let them know?

There's no above or around
The only way's down
I don't see through this door
What's it here for?
Is there any way to find a key?
There must not be
That's when I start to wonder
If it's better to just go under
To **** myself quietly
Or loose myself in the sound
Can I somehow go around?
Or sit here comfortably?
Either way I've lost my sense of ground
I finally give in
To what might still be deception
But the only way I see fit
Is the way that's barely lit
So I head through the path that leads down

These gravestones call my name
The things they claim
A crow sits atop a tree
Carrying a noose for me
At my soul, they're tapping
In the dark, they're stabbing
I won't let them take my soul
I will write the truth you must know
I must say it again
I won't let them take my soul
Please tell them not to take my soul
You may take my soul
I'm sorry.

I am wise,
because I've been a fool.
I am brave,
because I've been scared.
I am strong,
because I've been weak.

Why I cannot tell you,
I do not know.
Why I can't bear to speak,
I'm not sure.
Why I can only communicate my soul this way,
I don't understand.
Why this is the only language I'm fluent in,
I have no clue why.
This is why I seek out people who speak like me,
born with a stranger's tongue,
a dialect not many can comprehend.
This is why I can only talk to them,
sending riddles and broken words
even they may not understand.
It's why I don't perceive the language of this world,
but only the coded words found deep in art.

When I show you my art,
I'm not looking for attention
When I share these poems,
it's not to seek your praise
When I let you see these things,
I don't want you to tell me it looks good
No, I don't care about that
Rather, it honestly makes me a little uncomfortable
Because of the emotion you miss,
the meaning within my 'talent'
And you don't get it
But especially if you do,
the last thing I want is for you to call me "gifted"
Am I 'gifted', to have such thoughts?
So whether you can feel for me or not,
all I'm asking you to so is get a glimpse
of what's inside my head
Don't be distracted by if it's 'good' or not
Please, make the effort to look a little deeper

Here lately,
I've envisioned myself
standing on a stage.
I don't like the thought
of lights, or fog,
or anything like that;
those things have never really
appealed to me.
I picture myself
creating a diversion,
something we can point
the bullets at.
"Send them my way."
Is this just coffee high hypothetical?
I don't know.
We'll see.

All these people, they are real
But I'll ignore them still
All these voices, they're forreal
But do I really want to ****?
Regardless, I don't think I could have fought this
Honest, I'd be deeper down in the darkness
If it wasn't for this art
That God gave me as a start
I'm taunted by demons, but still I write these verses
But when we write, we begin to fear
At the sight of what is really here
By writing to face your demons you'll meet your purpose

Climb down
No, sympathy is not enough right now
How could you sleep?
I hope you're dead, yourself
If you'll only show up
Once we're done breathing

I always look forward
to the luminous poems
you poets display.
But when I checked
my home page,
all I saw were thoughts
of suicide and deep
emotions of hopelessness
today. It churns my
stomach and burdens
my heart to see you
this way. There's a
place in my soul for
you, but that place
for yourself in your
own is filled with
decay.  You wish to
place a bullet in your
brain, but you're afraid
it will just ricochet around
in your head. You'r diseased
with what's behind your skull--
a dark black stain,
and it's true, we will
never know what you
fear for, laying in bed.
Nobody thinks what you
think--no one. And I'm
afraid empathy is on the
verge of extinction. I
know it's hard to say, I
understand it's not easy
to unbottle what's inside,
I get that it's even a
burden to let go of
what is safer to hide.
Stay alive for me, that's
all I want you to do,
stay with me, and I'll
try to save you. But
the truth is, I can't,
I can only be here
by your side as you
face down the hell
you're going through.
So I will stand here
at the edge of your
trench. I will do all
I can. But you must
fight. You must not
let these demons
take you down. It's
not easy. But I'll be
up here. I'll send
down my poems,
hoping to help
cast them out.
And when morning
comes, I'll be offering
my hand. We will stand
again, sharpening our
weapons for when the
sun reaches its grave.
But friend, you must first
live through this night.
Stay alive for me, please.

My feet dangle up off the ground
I levitate above the sound
Ever since I was young, I've been on dope
Nowadays, I use it to be my rope
Tie a noose around my head with floating feet
Still breathing, my mind will have no hold on me
Choke out the lull, my throat hung on a leash
You demons have no voice in me--capeesh?

I step away from this world given to the blink
So I have no noise to hide my mind behind
To allow myself some room to think
Although I will ponder of something terrifying
But I keep myself in this room of silence
Because the sound only allows thoughts at night
Though my thoughts can have a side of violence
The quiet I feared may be able to shed some light

I look back
at what I've
written, and
I realize I'm
not that fine.
Do you ever
squint your
eyes then
finally realize
you're life's a
little not right?
I'm driving
inside my mind,
and I'm driving
kinda sideways.
A runaway, but
I don't feel free.
I'm swerving
over the yellow
lines. Give me
a chance to
speak my mind.
I know you are
worried, for me
and what I
find. But I
promise you
that I'll come
home sometime.

Behind each skull
there is a section of silence
Our mind will linger
to this abstruse realm
A poet's words
are derived from such a void
An addict's thoughts
will loose themselves in this vacuity
A corner constantly in the back of our head,
a room for our subconscious to dwell
But when it's blatantly before me,
I find myself blurryfaced by the obstructed view
The silence can become violent
because when I think is when the voices come out
I let myself ponder for too long
until I can no longer tell what's inside of me
But maybe during this time where I can think,
I can use the silence to my advantage
Perhaps it's possible to take captive these thoughts,
to un-slash my O's and dash my E's
Could it be possible to cut ties with the quiet
if I make it through?

Actions speak louder than poetry,
so do no fill your words with promise,
when really your heart has let them hallow.

I know 2am far too well
I recognize the darkness in which I dwell
I know it front, back, and inside out
I recognize the crazed words my demons shout
I know that even under my sheets
I will loose myself in the night's deep
I believe there's a reason why I won't sleep
I can dream of a morning though now I weep

I search for  s o m e t h i n g

   between the lines,
                                                         Something
as if there's something more.             I dream
                                                          about
                                               Then it's    gone.

I want to have it,
                                 To be freed by it.
           it's like
         a song.              I can't
                             get out of my head

Whether we     admit it or not

     we
                             do try
to


                      conceal
       what's             ­ stored in                  our
minds. We

                         wear

          masks                   to
     be on
                                      the safe side
            But


we know
                       to hide             is not

            to be
                               awake

How many times must I
take it into my own hands
to burry my sin?

I pry at my terrain,
digging up graves
to throw my mind inside.

But the whole in my soil
is far too shallow,
so when the night comes and the rain falls,
I look down at the dirt
I've scrapped from my palms,
and find that my
****** bones
have resurfaced.

Do I not see
I am digging holes in my hands,
a trench within my mind?

Why have I not
laid my shovel down,
when Christ has already
etched in my tombstone
my sin, that's dead?

I cannot avoid the night.
I cannot outrun the rains.
But I can send all my sin
His way.

I want to fall inside
of You,
and fill up all the holes
in my hands,
revive all the graves
inside my mind.

I can't just stay it that room
Otherwise I'll think too much
In the silence
I'll think of fears and sorrow and such
I must distract my mind
With something
Because I fear for the thoughts
This silence may bring

I set out

                   for
                  a


                               noiseless
          room.
                         But then

         I remember                 the

silence

                           depresses



me.

The blind can't learn to see
by opening their eyes
I can't abolish this gloom
by putting on a disguise
But through faith and trust
I can find my Lord
I will remain in prayer to Him
and abide in His Word

This morning, my life was without taint
But as the day goes by,
My heart will grow faint
Beaten down by the voices
That taunt my head
Then I forget
The war that's lead
I let another day go by
Polluting what should be
A clear blue sky

The difference between
Being awake and dying
For one, is trying
That's all we're
Called to do
You have saved me
So I'll try to love You

The sun seems to fall with such gravity
Don't feel like the earth as it turns from sanity
Night brings gloom as the day comes to an end
But you must know dark is not your only friend
Shortly you feel the truth of being saved
Until your hope is burried in a midnight grave
In this moment you must let shadows burn
Rise and stand your ground waiting for the night's return
We might not all make it out but please try
We will win so find hope in what's promised to die

Like everyone I see your smile so soft and bliss
But I know there is sadness inside you too
It lingers deep in the darkness
Emerging when you thought you made it through

You stood on what was sure to be solid ground
But you never saw the hole that was really there
Falling deeper into the world's dismal sound
You suddenly realize you were standing on air

The night is meeting it's end
This gloom has meaning for now you are free
The dawn is coming and you will stand again
You, my friend, will encourage not just me

I've tried to give up poetry,
As if it's some addiction.
Sometimes I feel like an addict.
Do you ever feel like that, you poets?
Do you get my depiction?
Addicted to the pen,
Confined to your mind--your paddock.
I feel like a ****** who's on it again,
Writing another poem to a friend,
For others to use it as I pretend.
I'm addicted to the waves,
As I'm tossed and blown about--their slave.
They pull me asunder.
Oh Lord, take me under.
Blow my cover.
Let me not be another fanatic on dope.
That doesn't mean I smoke;
I'm talking about words with emotion,
But sometimes I get lost in this ocean.
Compulsive to smoking,
I'm writing this, hoping,
That as my pen is the lighter
And my cigarette is the page,
I can light your soul on fire,
While keeping the addict in his cage.
May your demons choke on the brume
By the words that are the smoke you consume.

I must have forgot
You can't trust me
I forget I am bought
My heart will open for a moment
But then the next thing you know it
I'm lost at sea
In this ocean of emotion
I'm in a battle of what I feel
And what is real
Tie my head to a noose
But just loose enough
So I can breathe
Balancing everything equally
Then darkness won't become me

Sometimes I find it hard
To convey a thought
Because when I look back
The words I display
Don't portray what I sought

I'm tearing through
Into your space
Mend heart clear stain
I find my place

Stay alive for me
Stay alive for me             friend
Stay alive for me  love

Move light through dark
I'm breaking apart
Nothing to say, just fide my place
I'll not give way
I know it's pouring - rain it out
Please stay awake
It's breaking my heart