"repenting" poems
I kissed a boy,
Who's neck was bare from faith.
Empty all around.
His lips tasted like sin ,
But his touch felt like nearby repenting.
I wonder what his mother would have thought.
I wonder if those knowledgeable creases placed on his neck mean more to me than it does to him.
This was inspired off of the work of 'Atheist on a Date'. I wish I knew who to credit, but I don't. None of the less, all credit goes to whoever wrote this masterpiece. I hope you enjoy the reply.
*Original Poem:
“I kissed a girl
Wearing a cross
Around her neck
Her lips didn’t taste
Like church
But her hips
Felt like god
I wonder what
Her pastor would
Have thought
I wonder if that
Cross around her neck
Meant more to me
Than it does
To her”*
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
As I stand here, outside my work building
stealing a smoke break
I wonder about God and the universe
and how much happier it makes me feel
to believe in other things
That the sun was a running man
chasing the stars in that endless black
run man
run fast
run free
but freedom only gets you
slipping and sliding in circular leaps
around our earth, almost like
a clumsy mouse in a stationary wheel
and these sneaky stars
always one step ahead at sunrise
or at his heels in sunset
My mom’s a Catholic woman
she won’t believe in the running man
her stars are not stars, no
her stars are rosaries in purses and
priest’s words
taught words
holy words
but holy words are also
human words, are they not?
It never made sense to me
that a person could live their whole life
repenting it
But then again,
my dad used to have me work in our yard,
picking the weeds outside
and he let me treasure them in a vase
he never called them weeds,
they were always
dandy-flowers
wishing flowers
wildflowers
but wild only gets you
believing in the sun and
keeping shrubs in vases
All of which suit me, because
In the lonely nights of endless black,
I have the company of my own stars
and when holy words of weeds fall back
I remember that—
wild humans are only wildflowers
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
Weary and weak,--accept my weariness;
Weary and weak and downcast in my soul,
With hope growing less and less,
And with the goal
Distant and dim,--accept my sore distress.
I thought to reach the goal so long ago,
At outset of the race I dreamed of rest,
Not knowing what now I know
Of breathless haste,
Of long-drawn straining effort across the waste.
One only thing I knew, Thy love of me;
One only thing I know, Thy sacred same
Love of me full and free,
A craving flame
Of selfless love of me which burns in Thee.
How can I think of thee, and yet grow chill;
Of Thee, and yet grow cold and nigh to death?
Re-energize my will,
Rebuild my faith;
I will arise and run, Thou giving me breath.
I will arise, repenting and in pain;
I will arise, and smite upon my breast
And turn to Thee again;
Thou choosest best,
Lead me along the road Thou makest plain.
Lead me a little way, and carry me
A little way, and listen to my sighs,
And store my tears with Thee,
And deign replies
To feeble prayers;--O Lord, I will arise.
15.4k
Thirty days have passed by,
purity abiding around my heart
Our souls were so blessed
to fast Ramadan deeply sincere
To be enlightened by its vast mercy
and the extreme prosperity
a gift from Allah came along to bless our hearts
to spread peace and love, to dig faith in each part
A blessed bounty to wipe away our tears
to rest our souls and vanish our fears
to sparkle with faith with our ambitious beliefs
and twinkle light in our bright smiles
I can't explain the sadness,
that all of it is already gone
Yet I am unable to express,
all the happiness that came along
Oh dear Eid,
you can't help it but sowing seeds of joy,
All the little children jumping out of ecstasy,
or something more
We gather all of us in a room,
cheering everything we have got
the child's enthusiasm kindling a thriving inner radiance
joining hearts with the profound crystals of love
feeling the gratitude for Allah's merciful blessings
pounding hearts of affliction and yearning
attempting to catch glimpses of happiness
that once has been hunted by a sudden death
of a loving dear soul
I have two sides today,
in my spirit is something wrong
but it's real, and I can't hide it
and let the feeling in my heart just lay
A beaming smile, so doleful eyes
As I said I have got two sides
And still can not decide.
This great festival meant a lot,
now it is just a reminder,
to all the years that have flown
celebrating a day without her.
It is just a replay,
to the digging nostalgia in my core,
until Allah will send a cheerful hope,
just be patience to get over all the mope
work even harder to cherish the heaven above.
Yet you see,
this movie will come again, the next year
and the melancholia, tingled with nostalgia
might keep you deaf and blind
along your long road.
Remember that Allah's door of repenting is always wide open
Waiting for your heart to get back and mind be awaken...
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
By Janis Ian
I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth...
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say "come dance with me"
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen...
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said: "Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve"
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly...
So remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen...
To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me...
We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say: "Come on, dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen...
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 3:34 PM UTC
Resisting your surrender
Like a passionate pretender
Cursing your existence
So unruly cant even believe it
Rehearsing until morning
For a ending to your story
Searching for a reason
Why you’re always out of season
Still wearing those ***** clothes
And swearing at the Her ghost
Living in your furry
Just makes things more blurry
Some drunken thrills
Followed by some healing pills
Staring at the mirror
Thinking it will look clearer
Resisting your departure
And what seems like constant torture
Insisting on the weather
To lead you somewhere farther
Counting on tomorrow
To release you from your sorrow
Leads you to forgiveness
Repenting all your sins and
Starting a new chapter
In this new world that you are after
Living in the moment
Gives you quick atonement
Walking from the ashes
The past and what it’s taken
Your soul now unbroken from this spell
That had you been under
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
Compromise and decay are difficult things to digest. Striking like gravity on the spine, slow and sure. They are as inevitable as my need to avoid them. All the lust, passion, and greed I wish to swim in for an eternity dies with the same cancer that eats my body away. The maggots, flies, desperation, and despair, all attack me simultaneously and with an unstoppable desire to thrive on my remains.
They are relentless and I am not.
Make like a good boy and lie down, ready to decompose with acceptance and grace. I'll place a bag on my head for decency and my wallet on my chest for convenient identification. Perhaps some intelligent future civilization of the cockroach's descendants would like to know about my sad demise. I know the humans won't.
"Misguided", they will say. "Not enough Jesus in his soul to beat back the demons", will say the child ******* priests. Spit on by a hundred million naysayers, in between their ************ and repenting. Given billions of one star reviews because zero stars isn't an option. Oh , I miss the the maggots, the flies, the devastation, and the despair. They were my enemies, and now my only friends.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
let me wish upon a star,
not to light up the entire universe,
just to cause a shimmer,
in someones pitch black life,
just to add a glow,
in a few tiny dreamy eyes,
just to give some warmth,
to any cold hapless soul,
just to cast a ray of hope,
to the seafaring men out there,
just to lighten an unexplored path,
to those in search of adventure,
just to reflect the hidden evils,
to those repenting souls,
just to brighten a few more lives,
before melting away to nothingness.......
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
You held my bones together
Kept me all intact.
But now I'm coming unhinged.
My fingers are losing feeling,
Detached from who I am.
My dry tongue,
And teeth falling lose.
Can only make a slapping sound,
No cry for help.
My skin is so lonely
My hips go untouched.
I shiver so quick
I look frost bitten.
But really I'm just cold,
Without a warming touch.
I'm sorry I'm weak,
And can't keep my pace.
But it's all moving so fast
And I'm trying so hard
Not to fall behind.
I'm pushing my legs
As far as they will go.
And I know my slow knees,
Are holding you back.
I can't give you life,
But god, i can try.
To make you feel as deeply,
As fully as me.
I can't promise you much
Because I'm an unpredictable mess.
But I can promise
I'll give you all that I have.
Sacrificing my sanity
To keep yours intact.
My prayers have become
Begging cries.
Begging to god
To keep us alive.
Repenting the sins
I've scared myself for.
I came so close
To recovering my soul.
But you might as well be ******
Or some other drug.
I itch for you
Return to my veins.
But with every drug
Comes a crash.
A weightless,
Glowing feeling,
When you get the first taste.
But really it's just poison,
Ruining your veins.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
I
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,
Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,
Is music. It is like the strain
Waked in the elders by Susanna;
Of a green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in her still garden, while
The red-eyed elders, watching, felt
The basses of their beings throb
In witching chords, and their thin blood
Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.
II
In the green water, clear and warm,
Susanna lay.
She searched
The touch of springs,
And found
Concealed imaginings.
She sighed,
For so much melody.
Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves,
The dew
Of old devotions.
She walked upon the grass,
Still quavering.
The winds were like her maids,
On timid feet,
Fetching her woven scarves,
Yet wavering.
A breath upon her hand
Muted the night.
She turned--
A cymbal crashed,
Amid roaring horns.
III
Soon, with a noise like tambourines,
Came her attendant Byzantines.
They wondered why Susanna cried
Against the elders by her side;
And as they whispered, the refrain
Was like a willow swept by rain.
Anon, their lamps' uplifted flame
Revealed Susanna and her shame.
And then, the simpering Byzantines
Fled, with a noise like tambourines.
IV
Beauty is momentary in the mind--
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.
The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
So gardens die, their meek breath scenting
The cowl of winter, done repenting.
So maidens die, to the auroral
Celebration of a maiden's choral.
Susanna's music touched the ***** strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
Left only Death's ironic scraping.
Now, in its immortality, it plays
On the clear viol of her memory,
And makes a constant sacrament of praise.
3.5k
XVIII
Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench
Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc’t and in his volumes taught our Lawes,
Which others at their Barr so often wrench:
To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
To measure life, learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heav’n a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
2.8k
I stepped on the stage again,
My act was supposed to be the showstopper;
This circus was still breathing,
And I wasn't modest claiming all the credit;
The schedule was followed always,
It had been followed this time as well;
The magical act of mine was to be recorded.
I bowed a greeting quickly,
Followed it up with a bouquet sprouting out of thin air;
Delivered it to a girl in the 7th row,
Neither by foot nor by hook I did that;
Yes my magic wand I flicked smartly,
Making the flowers reach the girl so cute;
The audience sure was impressed with me.
I saw clapping hands in the stands,
Not much later did I speak of a vanishing act;
And I made an assistant vanish into a box,
Then followed a fiery act & my head was aflame;
Like the agent of the Devil, I appeared,
Soon underground I disappeared;
Didn't stop on the floor below strangely.
My assistants were none there to put out the fire,
I panicked and called for help but none arrived;
Soon the fire gelly would run out and my head will burn,
But I hadn't been married yet & my inamorata was upset;
She wasn't going to forgive me for my crimes,
Whether I had committed them or was innocent;
Now I felt my hair burning and the stench sickening.
I was about to find my doom's onset,
Still, the fire was getting colder & bolder;
Now I didn't feel burning in my hair,
The flames were now blue as I could see;
Out of the body was that experience,
And now I regretted each one of my sins;
Suddenly on my stomach, I felt a million pins.
I still wondered if any of it was real,
At least the pain felt real and I was in hell;
By now there was no point repenting it,
The sin committed was grievous I realized;
No Punisher will take it easy & forgive me,
Here the executioner was my own inamorata;
Never did I think she could be so cruel.
I then felt my head being supported,
And I was brought back to my senses;
She then helped me into a standing position,
And it was her who had again breathed life into me;
The vanishing mechanism had failed this time,
But my ceased breath had breathed a new lease to 'us';
I just looked at my inamorata with desperation & guilt in my eyes.
There was such kindness in her eyes,
I just knew then that I'll be satisfied.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
As fridge-rator to beer in the head between the ears adorned with flashy widgets with which to trap the hoes he hopes that he can pull into his poles. His gravity whips wide so hands find and feel up erthing that gots the tail, he wants to rail so hands out he walks and tilts to one side and back holding his glass. Two fingers limp around the rim, dipping his fingertips into the juice like he wants to dip into you, pinkies as he holds your head forcing you to **** like you want his come as much as he wants to come. Then when done zips up, runs out, ***** sayonara", switch rerun mode without emotion. He floatin. He floatin. He gloatin.
Head on the couch back making tired, one eye open scoping everyone's glow as they move, when up he comes sittin in my face, spittin what he thinks I want him to say, I'm like, **** guy control that tongue, you spray like that always I'm afraid I won't take that wild **** as tool is to you as to yo ***** Right ******* ****** spittin harder in the lean up perhaps the lead up to fist flung to react. "Man you too loose, I gotta tell you, I've got just what you do." "Your uh ****** Man watch ya flavor of language, I got just enough ****** left to get hard and stomp you, heel first in boots bought to stomp, pre-emptive to deal with the bullwhip effect where first you droolin to **** me, then retract like a bowstring because my ***** resembles a **** "What you want, ***** You wan **** this **** for real?" (For real?) He floatin. He floatin. He floatin the room, he ghosting.
Lick my lips, cept it's not a tongue. For this purpose it's strobe lights, in light show, and like snow, black and white between sheets of plastic TV screen on get settled into my flow, rip back and forth like prongs on a fork on your ******* blindfolded and scolded right angle, bent like an L-shape repenting for **** by taking the ****** flash cards, held up on headboards, trying to teach you metrics and standards lacking in you to tune you into the lifestream, no empathy and no tact to show, remember this hell well while you sail through life preying, I'm praying and making marks in meat coats. But he floatin. He floatin. He gloatin.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
Do you know the darling Abigail?
She lives inside my mirror.
The little ****** girl,
With the wicked smile so queer.
Do you know the darling Abigail?
She laughed and smiled and danced.
The she beauty beheld at once,
Did leave me so entranced.
Abigail is in my head,
She’d never been before.
The ****** beauty lies there,
Smiling calmly on the floor.
Oh behest the silent beauty,
She creeps beneath the bed.
In solemn mocking silence,
She crawls inside my head
I regret that faithful night of poisons,
The dancer i did betray.
It was never my intention,
to send Abigail to her grave.
I guess there is no repenting,
There’s nothing i can do.
At night i feel her cold dark hands,
And her smile of “how dare you.”
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 11:20 PM UTC
#
*How long wilt thou - this generation of deceit and joy – detain,
Starve, and defraud the people of our holiest reign?
Content ingloriously wasted to pass by as our falling days,
Like the flooding rains, as virtuous fools chase each other’s praise:
Till all thy fleshly allegories, now dimmed once shined so bright
As the multitudes grow stale - tarnished with each day’s new light.
Please believe me, ye youth by whose royal fruit thy must be
Gathered before ripened - else ye rot upon the tree.
Heaven itself must be sufficiently allotted, soon of late,
Like some unlucky youthful revolution born purely out of fate.
This false fate whose notions if we watch with skill,
For does not human good depend on human will?
Fortune rolls upward like lava, smoothly it does ascend,
From its first release, it takes not the bend.
But, if un-seized, it glides away like the wind
And leaves us - a late repenting fool far behind.
Now to meet with you, the you reading of this glorious prize,
As I spread these wisdom words before you as above you he flies.
Had thus Old Noah, from whose ***** we all offspring,
Not dared, when fortune called him to be the lead offering,
At the bottom of the ocean in exile he might still remain
And Heaven's sacred anointing oil would have been in vain.
Let Noah’s successional ages to your heart engage
And not shun the examples of this prophesized declining age.
For behold soon there comes three days of darkness to the skies,
As the shadows lengthen into the airs and then we slowly vaporize.*
#
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
I self-indulged—
For me a rare
Lapse, an unexpected
Slide to materialism.
Repenting already,
My selfishness.
I bought myself
Internet Radio.
How could I resist?
E-Tail has made it so easy.
GOTO Amazon Electronics.
•Amazon.com: Electronicswww.amazon.com/electronics-store/b?ie=UTF8... Amazon.com, Inc. Online shopping from a great selection at Electronics Store. ... Electronics. Shop for TV & Video, ... Featured Offers in Electronics ... Electronics Categories • ($“Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching!$ Ads in the middle of the freaking poem!”)
The omnipresent marketplace:
Shop at home in your pajamas,
Pay for it with keystrokes,
Go back to sleep.
FOR SALE: Hail to thee,
Oh bittersweet Credo of Capitalism!
I finally broke down,
Accepting the fact that
RADIO: once a wireless marvel;
Now, a fading media option,
Its broadcast range
Not only shrunk, but
Signal reception, downright poor.
So, I finally broke down
Bought a radio that actually works.
So what I want to know
Is NPR so full of itself that
They go so far to find some
British-accent guy to read
Sports summaries?
I am listening to some
Pompous Pommy poofter,
At KBOS, Boston, Massachusetts,
Nigel Longshanks, himself,
Recapping “The Run for the Roses,”
Kentucky Derby homestretch,
Missed NBA semi-final foul shot &
The freakish mojo comeback of
Yankee Baseball Bad Boy: A-ROD.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
I’m so sorry for this;
I’ve done you wrong so many a time,
Finally babe, it's my victimless crime.
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
Need to apologize,
Realize I’m mad and bound for decay,
Need to tell you; the fleeting light of the day.
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
I’ve lied, through these, my guilt,
Kneel here repenting, hugging your hips.
Start to break down, what was sobriety dips.
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
I’ve done it all again;
You’re already aware of my past,
Your fears they will continued, here I relapse.
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
I’m back to it, the past.
These scars and old wounds fester again;
I’m back in the dirt, like a dog in his chains.
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
You’re forced to know this now;
I fought, and I fight, it’s gotten bad.
I broke, then killed a man, giving all I had.
Oh Darling, Oh Darling,
There was that look again!
You my rock, my only salvation;
Gone, apartment empty, at the bus station...
Oh Darling, you’re no longer mine!
I cry into a mirror, cursing my name;
Sorrow turns to anger, these fists to blame.
A crash, broken mirror, a home inflamed...
Oh Darling gone, Oh Darling gone,
I can only apologize with my life,
A true sacrifice to never enshrine...
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
When the night is here ,and all the eyes are asleep
Mine refuse to close,I crave to taste your meeting
I lose myself and regret my sins
My spirit starts to mingle in faith
My soul states Allah's super vision
His miracles , His super power and holy pure love
I yearn for that special corner
which gets perfumed by my sincere tears
Yet,I yearn for it with extreme heartiness
I start yelling to His majesty ,
expressing my situations well aware that He know more than I actually do !
Keenest in my heart! I do feel His mercy
In that corner , I feel my faith's warmth
and I feel your closeness for that you're closer that the vein !
And when I gather my feelings with sacred rain
and perfume my mouth with your holy presence fragrance
I get overwhelmed with the deepest purest emotions of relaxing !
and my heart is wondering and regretting ! "how much I lost from my life like this night ! "
In your presence , Time passes sweeter than honey and prettier than roses !!
Than my tears start pouring like rains ,mixed with regret salt and happiness sugar of such moments !!
A sudden shadow sends me arrows of pain and roses of hope !
I start calling upon you with a shaking heart !
Oh my LORD ! I came with regret! I'm repenting to you !
Forgive me my lord ! I seek your mercy !
I have no one but you ! I run from you towards you !
whenever I remember a sin that I've committed !I get burned with the deepest shame and vexation !
i get melted ,I kneel and bite my fingers' nails from regret and sorrows ...
Ya Allah , you are the most beneficent , the most merciful !
please ,hear my call ,guide me to the straight path and forgive me for I'm a week slave of yours :")
Forgive me ...
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
(Jeremiah, xxxi. 18-20)
My God, till I received Thy stroke,
How like a beast was I!
So unaccustom'd to the yoke,
So backward to comply.
With grief my just reproach I hear;
Shame fills me at the thought,
How frequent my rebellions were,
What wickedness I wrought.
Thy merciful restraint I scorn'd,
And left the pleasant road;
Yet turn me, and I shall be turn'd;
Thou art the Lord my God.
"Is Ephraim banish'd from my thoughts,
Or vile in my esteem?
No," saith the Lord, "with all his faults,
I still remember him.
"Is he a dear and pleasant child?
Yes, dear and pleasant still;
Though sin his foolish heart beguiled,
And he withstood my will.
"My sharp rebuke has laid him low,
He seeks my face again;
My pity kindles at his woe,
He shall not seek in vain."
1.9k
person's truth
present not
in rejoicing but
in repenting.
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 10:57 PM UTC
At Seventeen
Janis Ian
I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say "Come dance with me"
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen
A brown eyed girl in hand-me-downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said, "Pity, please, the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve"
And the rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly
Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debentures of quality
And dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen
To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
When dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me
We all play the game, and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
They call and say, "Come dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen
Songwriters: Janis Ian
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 12:09 PM UTC
Draw like you want to beat the **** out of God for limiting the colour spectrum to something finite.
Write like the ******* paper is on fire and your pen is kerosene and it’s burning and you’re screaming but it feels so ******* good.
Realize you’re a ******* *****
Realize everyone’s a ***** and the sun is only going to explode and the world is only going to burn and we’re all going to die in fire, but it’s only going to hurt for an instant.
But you love the pain, that’s why you beg him to paint you black and blue and make you bleed so you can see how disgusting you really are.
Remember that god has abandoned us all and Jesus died for your masochistic tendencies.
So, crucify me on your parent’s bed and **** me like repenting can save us.
**** me like you want to save us.
But what’s salvation to bruised knees and praying to the tune of incoherent screams and begging and pleading and Yes Sir and Thank You Sir and an ****** so hard your body joins your head in the clouds.
Learn languages and **** his **** in all of them.
Turn *** into art the way he turns you into his masterpiece.
Live like your biggest debate is whether or not to drink a pint of beer, or a pint of blood – and choose the blood every time.
**** yourself every second of every ******* day and remember that you’re alive and you’re not so well and never look your grave in the eyes until he tells you to.
Scrapbook every bullet hole you've kissed, keep mason jars for the dirt he rubbed your face in, plant a cigarette **** for good luck, always ask permission, remember you’re disgusting, remember you’re dying, remember you’re alive, remember love, remember passion, remember anger, remember this.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
Your water's drying
Your life is in the cup
Your trees are dying
Your wildlife's locked up
You're in the zoo man...
When will you wake up?
How do you feel about it?
Do you accept and submit,
Throw in the towel and quit,
Or turn humbly to God and
With a heart of contrition
Ask Him to to be forgiven
Repenting for and turning from
The sin that was our own decision
Through the ultimate sacrifice,
Jesus Christ was crucified
He paid the cost of our sinful life
With His bloodshed He became The Way
That us sinners when we died
With Him, we died to sin
Three days later when He rose again
He defeated death, the wages of our sin.
Trust in Him He's the Solid Rock
On His firm foundation
We have sure salvation.
Through Jesus Christ !
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
Seize the day.
Learning to live each day.
Daring to dream each day.
Living life each day.
Trying again each day.
Falling in love each day.
Falling out of love each day.
Taking a journey each day.
Remembering to laugh each day.
Healing each day.
Forgiving each day.
Repenting each day.
Praying for guidance each day.
Striving each day.
Creating memories each day.
Starting again each day. . .
Learning to seize the day.
Carpe diem.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC