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"ocala" poems
You can find me underwater You can find me in the mountains You can find me if you seek me out Just feel around Being pulled in two directions looking for that true connection a hand to hold, a mouth to kiss Just feel me out I met a boy named Joshua in the forest of Ocala he took my suitcase off my hands and he led me home and he led me home... This is how the story u n f o l d s with his voice, with his voice c u t t i n g through the wind ________________ like a singing bowl The scene was over but alignment was waiting could have been anywhere but you would have found me So we locked arms and traveled the country Got mistaken for a couple of thieves She almost died but was saved by angel and caught a ride to Boulder instead People aren't always meant to stay together forever there are seasons of distance but you keep keep spinning back into my vortex and I can't help but notice this You can find me underwater You can me find me in the mountains You can find me if you seek me out Just feel around
0
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
egeria-litha
Beloved
You can find me underwater You can find me in the mountains You can find me if you seek me out Just feel around Being pulled in two directions looking for that true connection a hand to hold, a mouth to kiss Just feel me out I met a boy named Joshua in the forest of Ocala he took my suitcase off my hands and he led me home and he led me home... This is how the story u n f o l d s with his voice, with his voice c u t t i n g through the wind ________________ like a singing bowl The scene was over but alignment was waiting could have been anywhere but you would have found me So we locked arms and traveled the country Got mistaken for a couple of thieves She almost died but was saved by angel and caught a ride to Boulder instead People aren't always meant to stay together forever there are seasons of distance but you keep keep spinning back into my vortex and I can't help but notice this You can find me underwater You can me find me in the mountains You can find me if you seek me out Just feel around
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48
i was sitting with my family at a mexican restaurant in ocala, florida when the idea of death was brought up. my great uncle cecil had recently died and i would be playing violin at his funeral in a few days. he was cremated. and i knew that. “i don’t like the idea of cremation,” i shared with the table. my dad responded with empathy but reminded me that he himself wanted to be cremated. of course i had heard this before. but this time was different. ashes. something deep welled up inside me and i began to feel a weight hanging from my eyes as if someone was pulling every single tear from my ducts. i quickly removed myself from the table so that my family wouldn’t recognize the pain stirring inside my bones. anxiety. ashes. as i stood in the bathroom, i began to wipe away the not-yet-healed wounds of being told my body would be burned in hell. in fact, i remember every time a preacher would in their own way tell me my body would be subjected to billions of years of excruciating torture because I was gay. sinners in the hands of an angry god. mixed messages of god loves everyone and god burns **** and sinners have torn apart my once held view of a gracious deity. ashes. words of scripture I once revered now tell me i’m no longer welcomed. ashes. faithful christians whom I once knew now tell me that satan has a grip on my soul... i still love jesus. and I know that love is reciprocated. and that is why my very core breaks into a thousand different pieces when I hear about a loved one that has chosen to be cremated. how could I ever choose cremation... for it has already been chosen for me. glitter.
0
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
braxtonmann
Cremation
i was sitting with my family at a mexican restaurant in ocala, florida when the idea of death was brought up. my great uncle cecil had recently died and i would be playing violin at his funeral in a few days. he was cremated. and i knew that. “i don’t like the idea of cremation,” i shared with the table. my dad responded with empathy but reminded me that he himself wanted to be cremated. of course i had heard this before. but this time was different. ashes. something deep welled up inside me and i began to feel a weight hanging from my eyes as if someone was pulling every single tear from my ducts. i quickly removed myself from the table so that my family wouldn’t recognize the pain stirring inside my bones. anxiety. ashes. as i stood in the bathroom, i began to wipe away the not-yet-healed wounds of being told my body would be burned in hell. in fact, i remember every time a preacher would in their own way tell me my body would be subjected to billions of years of excruciating torture because I was gay. sinners in the hands of an angry god. mixed messages of god loves everyone and god burns **** and sinners have torn apart my once held view of a gracious deity. ashes. words of scripture I once revered now tell me i’m no longer welcomed. ashes. faithful christians whom I once knew now tell me that satan has a grip on my soul... i still love jesus. and I know that love is reciprocated. and that is why my very core breaks into a thousand different pieces when I hear about a loved one that has chosen to be cremated. how could I ever choose cremation... for it has already been chosen for me. glitter.
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