Tim & Kristins xmas present

 

Im strange I know.



Ah, A nice fresh pile of books to play in!!!



WEEE!




Yup, my christmas break has been...interesting. :]



Amidst the Creator: 2

As I exhaled I said sorry
To Him.
My lashes flutter once
Before they close.
Uncertain but
At peace.

After ten minutes,
I opened those lashes like
One might draw back the
Curtain for one last look
at something they lost.

"What are they?"
"This is Me."
And for twenty minutes,
The Heavens were all that I could see.

my office

I will remember this moment.
I will
Remember this
Moment.
I will stick it with the rest of the
I will remember this moment's
In the GREAT FILING CABINET!
There, the moment will get uniformly
Scattered.

All those strings of To Do's
Forever dancing about and
Trodding upon my thoughts.
Wads of white roll on the ground.
Images carelessly pinned to pink walls.

There are times when this whole place
turns downside up.
When paperclips and words
Float up to tap the roolf and then
Slap the floor in the same
Sentence.
When the files come undone
and the memories satur8 the ground.
Or the ceiling.
Sometimes, these fallen moments sprout and
grow like wild flowers.
Other times they shrivel and die.
Some even grow a few fingers...

When this happens, I look at the
Clock and smile.
Because its missing a hand and a few numbers.
I can see it all with my eyes,
Rolled back completely.
I know what its really like to be
On the outside looking in.
The disillusionment is great.
The mess
The sc  atteredness
The dusty corners.

Come on in.

Amidst the creator : 1

Sitting. Eyes closed and
Slightly smiling.
A breeze weaves in and
Out of my hairs, lifting and
Drifting them upon my head.

The tall grass around me
Along with the melancholy
Music of some awakened forest
In the distance.

A stillness drifts through the trees and
Blankets the land and thats when
I feel his presence.

And I surrender my breath's
To the beauty of this moment.

Why I need more family time:

Its 5:30 December the something.
My dad opens my door.
"HEATHER!! Come look at the sky,
I know you'll appreciate this."
"Well, alright." I said.
We walk out my room through the
Foyer then to the front door.
He opens it and goes on to describe
The details with an underlying awe, that made me proud.
"look at how those clouds resemble sand, and the colors are so bright!" he said
And the sun crept down further.

I never knew he liked sunsets.

Ze Latest:

"Heartfelt"

CREATION

Day 1:
Quietly and deliberately you speak
That word rolls off the tip of your tongue
And falls.
Without a sound it spirals down
Leaving wild traces in the black,
With every shooting spark that flails
A burst of white saturates the abyss
More and more and more
Until suddenly,


All is illuminated.

Day 2:
Quietly and deliberatley you speak
The words cascade with out delay.
Then drop.
Hitting with a bounce and sinking
Deep,
The atmosphere has made it here and
By moon light it rocks
The oceans to sleep.

- Still need to finish the rest of this one, days 3-7. This is the first poem of the series : Poetry of the Bible

The latest.



(above) Artists: Heather Lusk, Cameron Zionts





Splattered Laughs on the Wall

You laugh and joke

and laugh and joke

and bust your gut on funny

you say to her,

..."Your getting old, you cant even remember where you lost your marbles!"

ha ha ha ha HA HA HA HA

and she says to you,

"Your not making any sense, I bet its your old age... and your only 50!"

HA HA ha ha HA HA hahaha

Then, 20 more years of wrinkles gather on your face

20 more years of laughs collect in a heaping muddle at the bottom of your stomach

20 years later You wake up and do not know your name

But you remember what she said

When your face was not so wrung dry

and your belly not so full

And you wonder where your HA HA HA hahaha went.

You have always been able to

laugh and joke

and laugh and joke

No matter the problem, your laughs were always bigger.

But today you cannot remember your name.

And you forgot that it would hurt when you pulled the trigger.

And your laughs went out with your brain.

The latest..

Childhood Slips Away

My dear, you are slipping slipping slipping out of my hands.
I cannot stand this incessant dripping dripping dripping, won't you hear my demands?!
I catch a drop only to watch it fall once more,
But I will not stop trying, the last morsel is worth fighting for!
Long ago you cradled me at night with the sounds of your lullaby
Larger than the ocean at one time, your waves would wash my freckled face as I cried

Yet you leave this world in a single drop, with only my tears by your side.

Who will sing to me when I am lonely?
Who will wash away my sorrow when the world is gray?
Please don't leave me dear, stop this awful decay!
When you are gone completely, part of me will die too.
The years must've passed by me unnoticed, it seems your departure is far too soon.
And then I look down at you through watery eyes, again to find
That one last tear shaped particle lingers,
like a goodbye kiss...
Yet another moment is behind,
So I hold up my hand to align you with my iris
Because we are running out of time
And in a flash, the last of that sweet existence rolls through my fingers.

falling



falling



falling, I never imagined the end like this.
























plop....












And away you went... my childhood bliss.


The floor beneath me is stained now, in memory of you.
So I sit on the ground, colored with your ivory subtle blue
Humming the song you gave to me, I pretend you are singing too.

goodbye summer house

    Summer of 2010 has closed its door forever, leaving me on the welcoming mat in wonder. I stare at the hands that still grip the door knob and notice there are freckles that mark my days in the sun, creases that show more than the passing of time, and worn down fingernails that were chewed in many fits of anticipation. Alas, it is time to let go. If i turn now, I will see an empty road beckoning me to another house of which to furnish with new experiences. There is a stillness in the air around me, not even a particle in motion. So much that, if I were to stir, the effect would ripple its way across the atmosphere so that every blade of grass would sway to the rhythm of my movement. The universe pends in anxiousness, awaiting my answer to its call. Will I leave the door step to resume the time continuum? To shatter the frozen state of the world I have created, so that life can go on? I hope the new house has as many windows as the latter... and I hope that when nightfall creeps its way across the horizon, I will not be afraid of the darkness it brings. With that, I purse my lips in a line of confirmation then close my eyes. Letting go the brass knob of my summer home, I exhale, and turn to face the great abyss.

F -eeling

R-ather

E- xcited

E-verytime

D-iscoveries

O-pen

M-y

S-oul

More art

Seat 6

Their intestines fly up into their throats
Their cheeks are raised, their eyes are glazed,
Their scratching and tearing at their coats.
All white knuckled, sick, and gasping
With pupils like pin-heads, their asking.
Prayers float up, gaping bodies drop down
Through the clouds we shoot.
And their wings carry them both to heaven.

The screaming wind suffocates their sounds
But not enough. Not nearly enough
I can still hear the gurgled confessions of the man in seat 7
I, strapped loosley in seat 6
Never imagined the view out the window looking quite like this.

I turn to that sobbing man, stricken with fear
I grab his collar and press my lips to his ear,
"I promise I'll love you 'till the end is here."
So he clutches my face, and we marry our eyes,
And he pulls me close to him
Oh sweet demise!
I think to myself as I gaze in his wet blue reflections,
"This is the last i'll ever see of my imperfections..."

But a jolting jerk breaks our moment
Cold sharp metal slices open my head.
All I hear is that steady riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinggggggg
And my hairs are floating up now like childrens dreams.

Blood trickles like rivers and collects at my breast
The man in seat 7 grabs hold of me and mouths "CONFESS!"
I squeek and I sqwauk  but alas, I am drained of breath.
"Oh God, Oh God, make it stop. SHIT.SHIT. SHIT. Oh God, please no!"
Desperate are a sinners thoughts,
In the moments just before death.

Divine progression of the human soul (old skool style)

Thine hands grasp all things divine
Filling empty faculties in the mind
No more do finite physics prevail,
Thine stagnant soul, now ship asail.

Auroral pleasures intertwine
Folds of the earth, patterns find
Eternity birthed, ignorance behind!

Men hath denied Higher Law
Dost thine Being wane upon Spirits call?
In all progressions of delight
Fullsome art thee with inward sight.

- I really enjoy  that early 19th century prose, I think it's beautiful and should be used in poetry more often, which is why I chose to write in this style. It portrays answering your calling, unity within, and of course your souls progression, meaning, inner growth and revelation. I found my calling and inner unity through nature ("folds of the earth") and the patterns that exist within nature and ourselves. I have concluded that the end of this world is the beginning of the next, ("eternity birthed, ignorance behind") and that one is able to see so much more when they connect with the "Higher Law" or... God. Alas, there is so very much to this poem I have left unexplained, as I would like the readers to decipher for themselves the meanings pertinent to them as individuals.

the latest..

Sunny love

Upon the first hours of the sun
I danced within her reverie
Marveling as she lined my lungs
Drying up morsels of misery
She ebbs and flows through one's tears
Disintegrates moisture through the years
Lock her in time and tuck away
She'll never sleep, that sphere digressing
Her particles in my palm, as the world turns gray
The perils of night are much less depressing
Gleaming still upon souls, the array
I shall let her frolic through my hair on a cold winters day.

Connections

It is the metaphysical in which we find hope,
The intangible in which we find joy,
The notions of love in which we are fulfilled.
We are connected not by circumstance but by
Profound human emotion,
And therein lies happiness.

Alright, so I've been out of the loop for a while on the whole writing thing but it's for a constructive reason. I have since started discovering painting and drawing and such. I have found that it is EXTREMELY theraputic and i really enjoy it. So, here are a few shots of some my stuff..

Foundations

A few months ago I was informed by my mother of a mission trip that my family was planning to Tennessee, and a few months ago I was unaware of the wonders I have come to know so well since my arrival. This story, like any other is filled with a sense of inspiration and childlike happiness, a struggle and then an acceptance of the ending reward...but if you are reading my letters, know that this particular story is in fact not a story at all, and it is quite possibly the most moving. It is the real accountance of the two most beautiful and perhaps most important fibers in the human soul; meliority and christianity. Right now you may be asking 'what exactly is the meaning of meliority and where did it come from?' Meliority is stemmed from the Latin word [melior] which is understood in English as "better". Meliorism is the most unselfish belief that I have come across, aside from the belief in God, and what is more interesting is how I found it. It is "the belief that the world can be made better by human effort," and it is that fine doctrine that holds the utmost amount of faith in the human race, even when the world is cruel. The heart and soul of optimism and love are dependent upon it and faith in God, and these two notions are more real than the keys beneath my finger tips.
      Through the course of my 18 years on this earth, I have seen through the eyes of others what a wonderful place the world can be if God is only accepted into our hearts. I have watched on tv peoples lives succome to the great and almighty God just by the touch of their pastors hand on their persperating forehead. I have heard their stories, and watched their eyes drip like faucets onto empty floors because they have finally found whatever it is that makes them whole. Yet I never really understood. To me, these people weren't real, they were figments of some far away place that didn't exist outside my sphere of reality... maybe it was because I couldn't connect their new found wholeness to my broken pieces, my hollowed heart. I thought they were just pretending, and who knows maybe some were, but little did I know I would come to learn that it was I who had been pretending all along.
     We arrived in Tennessee on a Sunday and the humidity nearly knocked me off my feet a few steps outside the airport; I, living most of my life in west Texas was used to the dry, windy climate. Nonetheless, me, my family, and the rest of the Betenbough housing crew packed like sardines into a small white bus and drove to Williamsport, which is conveniently located about an hour outside of Nashville and headed to Narrow Gate Foundation. This particular stretch of land truly is a little piece of heaven carved into the foot hills of Tennessee; it is a glass of water in the dessert to which I can now happily say I have had the priviledge of drinking from. A few days after our arrival myself, my little brother and a few of the Narrow Gate members went on a hike to the 'High Point', a spectacle of a hill which overlooks the entire property just so I could really take in the beauty of the land, but as it turns out... as many things in life turn out... what I found was much more than just a beautiful view. I found on top of that hill, as so many young men at Narrow Gate do, a compassion and a respect for God like I have never known before. As Ken, Frank, Clayton, John Rae and myself shared our life stories, each more compelling than the last, a spark was lighted within me, and as seconds go by writing this letter, it grows bigger and brighter than the moment before. We were strangers walking up the hill, but I can say that without a doubt we were friends coming down. I have never in my life been so moved by the emotion's of others, but what I could see when I looked into their eyes, as if I peered through a window into thier souls, was love. A true, and pure, and personal, and passionate love for God. I left wishing that somehow I too could see this warm, radiating passion for the greater force in my own eyes. There was my first sip of living water, and to my surprise, I was thirstier than ever.
      Tuesday night, after the 'High Point' I lay in bed and continued to ask, when would I get what these four young men had? When would I get another taste of God? Then Wednesday came, and with it, a revelation.
      At around 11:00 p.m. I was walked into the countryside by a now good friend and vessel of the Lord named Adam, to which I am extremely thankful, and at 12:00 p.m. I came back alive. To be completely honest, it was like I was on drugs... you know, the kind that make you feel invincible and happy and energetic and free. And that is the best feeling in the world, the feeling of total and complete liberation, the knowing that the world is in reach, the beauty and awe that brings one to tears. It is wonderful, lasting and real. The best part is that it is real. A mere breeze had caressed my skin and I knew he was with me, and I think that he knew I wanted him to be. Under the stars and amidst the hundreds of fireflies, I felt the hand of God, and I am thinking now how badly, I cannot wait to touch it again.
     This trip was a mission, I was suppose to be just a helping hand that cleaned up some gardens and made the place a little prettier, yet I  leave living and renewed. I was suppose to change the "Narrow gators" lives, and now I am certain, that they have changed mine. I have watched through my own eyes how people like Bill and Stacy Spencer ( the founders of Narrow Gate) have made this world a better place to be in, how people like Ken, Frank, John Rae, Clayton, and Adam have been changed by faith and are reaching out to do the same for those around them. God has changed the outcome of so many lives through those people and words cannot begin to explain how grateful I, and so many others are, that they have chosen His path. In short, these people have made me realize that mankind is a wonderful, brilliant, and life changing species when coupled with God. At Narrow Gate, with the help of many, I started the life long journey of self discovery; I found that I am a meliorist, and a christian; I have faith in mankind and more importantly in God...and those two things are a wonderful foundation to any structure.

Pain and love and im bored at work.

What is true love with out memories of sorrow?
Let the past hold the light for the steps ahead
Heartache today for the betterment of tomorrow
But One could replace pain and love to be numb instead
For pain and love walk inches apart
Where one fades away the other is sure to start.
Choose them both simultaneously or neither will surface
But know that behind them both lies signifigant purpose.

Time to Recognize

,There are systems in place for essentially every single living thing that graces the earth. For every leaf there is an intricate highway of vessels, each one pumping life to and fro, birthing and dying all at once, organized and objectively. And inside every vessel, are more intricate processes, doing the same thing on a smaller scale. For every vessel there are cells, each one flowing along in perfect harmony, providing means for life and caring not that their work is a part of a much bigger, grander, beautiful picture. The same truth is relevant even so for the contents that lie inside each cell, of every vessel, of every leaf. The nucleus, the ribosomes, the vacuole ect. all tick and tock for the purpose of the life of a single leaf, absolutely everything else in this world, and perhaps the universe. As one finds himself in nature, (everyone should at some point in their lives find themselves in nature) intaking the subjects of the earth, whatever they may be, will he recognize the importance of it all? Will he see not just the colors of the element, but the infinite parts that make up the whole? Will he appreciate what he cannot see, as it is capable of being beautiful just the same as what he can? perhaps it is too much to ask, too heavy a concept for a simple mind, but if everyone could see the beauty I see... if everyone could lose but just one breath in awe of the details of the world one time, they would understand. They would believe in the things they cannot see, and feel the things they cannot touch. They would know there is a God, and account for the wonders he created if only it be a blade of grass. Life of the universe is full of detail, fleeting but ceaseless, wonderful, and dependent on every single speck.

Bend in The Road

    A few days in and here I am again, sitting in front of the same computer, typing on the same keys, breathing the same air. But this time the words that appear on this otherwise empty space hold some light behind them. As if before they did not, as if before this letter they were hollow and dark and ending.
This is the end of that depressing, sad, life ending, soul dying world that I have walked around in for the past months; this is the bend in the road. Things do get better, we have to believe that when the world has turned its back on us and the colors fade to gray, things will get better. Life is merely a cycle. We are essentially surrounded by endless amounts of circles with time being the catalyst of it all. The cycle of life and death, of good and bad, of summer and winter, of love and hate. The patterns that are repeated in nature are the same as those repeated in our lives, our bodies, and everything in between. Circles.
    Life, in every sense of the word is just a cycle, and when we get through those moments of despair still alive and breathing, the reward is promising, beautiful and untouched.  The end of one chapter is only the beginning of the next because really, there is no end, because every end is a new beginning and the cycles go on forever.- ( read Self Reliance, Emerson) I am a believer in infinity and I am a believer in love, does this make me an idealist? Maybe. Does this mean ever-lasting love is fathomable? Maybe. But for the past few days my life really has been 'ideal' and for some reason I cannot and will not accept an end to this journey, so what can I do but believe in the moments that make it wonderful? Each day of happiness was worth a year of pain, and in this second I am lucky to have experienced them both, and wise enough to appreciate the events that led up to this profound joy.
    So this is the part where I tell you what exactly it is that has brought a smile to my face, what has changed everything so suddenly...well, it's simple. It's pure. And it's lasting... its love. And for the first time, its real.

explosions

Over and over and over and I feel like an old, used up broken record.
The rotten scum somehow always rises from the bottom and makes its way to the top, engulfing everything in its path. But what have I done to stop it?
flicker to flame,
flame to fire,
fire to explosion,
explosion to fire,
fire to flame,
flame to flicker,
flicker to flame,
flame to fire,
fire to explosion,
explosion to fire,
fire to flame,
flame to flicker,
flicker to flame,
flame to fire,
fire to explosion,
explosion to fire,
fire to flame,
flame to flicker,

its gonna hurt.
but the cycle has to stop.
because in the end, the light goes out
and I cannot remember what it looked like in the first place.
must've been illusions all along.

If I Were...

If I were a star I would be a shooting one
If I were a planet I would be jupiter
If I were the weather I would be a thunderstorm
If I were continent I would be north america
If I were a state I would california
If I were a tree I would be a weeping willow
If I were a fruit I would be a strawberry
If I were a color I would be green
If I were a song I would be Forever Young
If I were a mood I would be happy
If I were an emotion I would be love
If I were a noise I would be laughter
If I were a flower I would be orange kush
If I were a direction I would be left
If I were a shape I would be a circle
If I were a season I would be summer
If I were an animal I would be a squirrel
If I were a hobby I would be painting
If I were a person I would be Heather Lusk :]

Emancipation of Deterioration

Tease my ears
memories begin to play, 
Ease my tears
And watch childhood decay.
Follow that windy road
That lead you to me
Feel my lips corrode
Under the willow tree.
Don't be afraid of death
Walk backwards silently
Growing love digressed
A lover's last decree
Let go this deterioration
Love of mine, be free.

365 Days

A year ago, I was different.
365 days later, things have changed; things have grown, things have died... people have grown, people have died.
I have watched a part of myself deteriorate into nothingness.. and that is what we are really afraid of isn't it? The nothing[ness]? The worst pain in the world, that parasite of being numb; that of feeling nothing, that horrible day when you realize that you are not happy, you are not sad, you are not filled with rage but you are numb, comfortably numb.

But I suppose that in this very moment I do see something.. I do feel something.
I feel the vast empty slip itself into my pores and settle like its gonna be there for a while.
I know the name of my invader, I know all too well its agenda, all its plans to hurt and steal what is mine, what I have loved for so long.
365 days later, the last morsels of my childhood dissapate, and here I am, babbling on and on, mourning the loss.
I used to feel like I had it all, and one year ago I did..I think. One year ago I was a senior in highschool, I poured my efforts into the yearbook publication of which I was extremely proud. I had a wonderful boyfriend and we were in love.
Thank God for that.. thank God for love.
I made the grades, the nightlife was my life and the world was a white pearl, mine for the taking.
But somewhere in that year long abyss, on that road that I have traveled stretching the miles between who I was and who I am, I shed that innocent skin.
I guess it's not so bad, I guess everyone goes through it at some point or another right?
So where does this leave me? Who am I now?
This is my problem to figure out. This is my disease to cure.
I know this, but I can't help but reach out for answers.
Maybe its not answers I am looking for at all though. Maybe I am just reaching out to see if anyone will take my hands.

So losing love and childhood and innocence and trying to cope with it all, and learning from mistakes, and finding God, and trying to discover who I am inside are all things I am doing... which is making me who I am today I suppose. Right?
Because what are we without these experiences?
Nothing. We base our steps forward on the steps we have already taken; experiences and memories prove we exist. They are the metaphysical link between being nothing and existing.
And "nothing" is an awful thing to be.

As for the drug induced revelations... I can not tell whether they have helped or hindered the process. Ignorance is bliss but God knows I don't want to be ignorant. Since traveling... my emotions are heightened and my outlook on life enlightened.
My mind was closed until I forced it open.
Have you ever cried in the name of beauty?
Have you ever felt such a deep connection with nature and people that you realize you are all one in the same?
There is nothing like that moment friends... when you are in tune with, and truly feel every living thing around you.
But now that I have seen all that I have wanted to see, am I more lost than when I began?
I can not go back home, that house where love resides is but a memory lost in time.
I fear I have strayed too far.
I fear I have lost myself to the oblivion.
365 days later, and I am slowly fading away...

Alive

Wind my life a little tighter
The sight of you brings out the fighter in me
Pass right through me like last summer
I want to watch the sun feed through the leaves
I've got a soul that will roam forever
Does infinity bring you to your knees?
Can you learn to love to wonder?
Are oceans in my eyes all that you see?
Come alive
Come alive
Soul deprived
Come alive
I'd kill myself to live one minute
To have a dream and exist within it
To change your life with the touch of my hand
Is to believe in a person that I don't understand.
Will you come away with me?
And discover what we are suppose to be?
We are just playing our part in the human race
But when I look for meaning will I see your face?

Empty glasses

Dust settles in the crevices of your brain
Your fingers snap when ran through the wires on your head.
Eyes that hollowed years ago because
Someone slurped the color from them with a straw, yes
Someone sent you to Hell.
And somebody else watched you as you went there,
And they still do.

Somewhere a heart beats in the distance,
It echoes inside your empty glasses
Rattle
Rattle.
Clink
Clink.

A child silent at a window,
A woman thoughtless in the dark.

A reason to believe

I have spent years going back and forth on the concept of religion.
With so many to choose from, how does one know for certain that their belief is truth?
There is a chance that we are all wrong, there is a chance that we simply turn to dust after our hearts have stopped beating; there is no after life; we are here and then one day we are not.
But what if there is? And how should we prepare for it?
These things I ponder in my sheets at night, when no one is around to listen to my thoughts... when I find myself alone inside my head.
A few days ago however I had a revelation, an epiphany some would call it.
This thought came into my mind at a time that I least expected it to; maybe it stemmed from desperation, or the cracks in my heart. Maybe it was God himself who sent it to me.
Either way, what I stumbled upon was something truly profound: a reason to believe.
Maybe I am not the first to find this out, but I found these reasonings myself, therefore I hold it sacred.

-
He rested his head on my lap as i ran my fingers through his hair. By now I have seen every freckel, every shadow of perfection and every wrinkle on his face.
We said nothing, but we were thinking the same thought. It hovered above us for hours that day, the simple understanding that what we had was gone, and that even together we were both alone.
We know the feeling of love, and what it was like to love one another so blindly... maybe that is why it was so hard to let go.
We were both afraid of falling, but there was nothing left to hold on too. With every hate filled word that exited our mouths and entered our souls we broke a little bit more inside, until one day, the peices were swept under the rug and made to collect follicles of dead skin and fibers in the air that no one really sees or cares about.
Yet it was in this defining moment, as i slid my fingers through his curls and felt the salty tears run down his face, that I found the evidence of Gods existance I had been searching so restlessly for.
Love.
The pure, wonderful and tangible notion of love, is enough for me to believe in a higher power.
Love is something metaphysical, something we cannot smell, or touch, or see. It is complex in every way, we do not choose who we "fall in love" with and who we do not.
But one day, when we least expect it, we meet a person that is different from every other person we have interacted with, and immense feelings overcome us, that we can not control, and can not explain, but we enjoy it nonetheless. Every single second of it.
Love is something mankind can not create, and certainly something no matter how hard we try, can not destroy.
It is not scientifically explainable, and holds no secret code we can write down and repeat, but we have all felt it at one point or another and know that it does in fact exist, with out a sliver of doubt we do believe in love.
Why do I hold this as proof that God exists?
Because I have to believe in something.
Because otherwise, everything I have done in this life, everything that you and I have worked for has been in vain.
I have to, in order to hold human life as sacred and important, believe that we were put on this earth for something else than to live and die.
Love my friends, is the proof that we are not alone.
Every good thing, every act of kindness, every shred of light in this dark world is all made possible because God has given us the single most wonderful thing in this entire world.
Love.
Though it strikes me as odd that I found this theory at a moment when love had collapsed in my life, when depression and heartbreak had overrun my thoughts and left me dead and alone, it helps to believe that maybe God knew I would find comfort in knowing he is with me.
That even through our darkest hours, we can find him.
We can know love.

The final "Good night"

This is the last Christmas.
A year from now she'll be'a settling
In the stomach of some wormy insect.
She'll be silent in the ground.
I think I'll wrap her up a boomerang...
This time next year it'll be coming back around.

I wonder how she'll go...
How all her beginnings will meet their end...
Will she simply shut her eyes with lids of snow?
Will she leave like my uncle
Screaming, clawing, trying to
Take me with her?
Will I have the heart to tell her no...?

If it be me that holds her hands in those final few,
It will be me that feels the slight breeze on my cheek
From her last exhale.
It will be me that watches her fleshy skin descend
From peach to pale.
If it be me, I can gaurantee, the inquisitive wretch I am,
I will bore myself in her eyes.
I will know exactly who she see's when
Her truths are compared to her lies.

So Merry Christmas!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!
One less gift under the fucking tree.

Understanding the metaphysical world

Metaphysics Link

- To understand life completely and wholly, one can look to a world beyond material reality.

Shades of Green

We were children once upon a time, running through valleys of purple flowers and bright blue skies
We were painters not so long ago and together we discovered the art of love
What we are now; what we have become is the result of emotional decisions, and the lack thereof
Grass stains are on my sheets tonight
I found comfort dreaming next to many shades of green.
Nothing could have kept us children, but as my innocence slipped through your fingers and fell to the earth,
I knew I was growing older.
I still find you in memories, the boy I knew rolled down a grass hill until his heart was still, so I buried his bones in my head.
Vibrance fades with every wash, but these blue eyes are wonderful to watch it happen through.
And one day, I too will become silent... and no one will keep my hollowed remains,
But I will tell our story in the sheets marked with  shades of green, and blood stains.

Trippy

There is an entire population of free living strands covering the surface of my head
They whip and snap and curl and fly away like I wish I could do
January 7th I abruptly left the plains of routine and the taste of the open air hasnt left my tongue
Wild air has not yet left my hair, and I covet the freedom of open roads ever more
The hands of the clock ran its fingers through my brunette feathers ;
Kept me sort of level so I would not catch flight
Kept me somewhat responsible so I could not fail my lovers
Kept me slightly sane for societies sake.

Nonetheless, I plucked the sun from its resting place
Squeezed the colors from it and let them trickle down my arm like concentrated river beds
I smeared my stained hands across the canvas in the sky
Then I lit a match; the colors caught aflame and I cried saying its name... beautiful.
Hot magenta soared downward, punching holes in the purpleish blue undertones
The source of life is not one shade of yellow, but many shades of the creative mind
After the ashes fell just beyond the earths face, I drove farther west into spontaneity.

I left some behind, holding question marks in their hands like torches and pitchforks
I cannot give them the answers they want, why I left that Wednesday so abruptly, so senselessly
What I know is there is adventure that lies awake inside me, waiting...
I cannot tame it, I cannot suppress it
But when it whispers my name I find myself answering, again and again.