Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

I only wanted to call to say that I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what I’m supposed to be sorry for, and so I found myself saying goodbye before we ever had the chance to talk.

Have you ever found yourself leaning back in a chair so far that you fear you might just fall backwards and hit your head? Why lean so far back? Why keep pushing and pushing until you reach that ultimate tipping point, where gravity takes hold of you and forces you to accept physics as a thing, to realize you can only go so far backwards before you reach the ground? Of course this is simply a metaphor, a cheap attempt to try and explain to myself why I think I am failing. I want to think I was placed upon some great throne, a chair made of pure gold with jewels and rubies and other super valuable stones set in the back and sides and arm rests. Isn’t that how all humans are though? Don’t we all want to think that our lives are something more than mere coincidence? We want to think we are the masters of our fates, that we surely must be placed on this Earth for something more than just…just this, right? I’m not sure I ever was just like other people. I never felt okay with just..existing. Yet, I also didn’t feel worth the effort, worth striving to become something more. I think I was born on a simple wooden chair, and like an idiot true to nature, I rocked that chair back and forth until I reached a tipping point. Now, I could have fallen forward, right? Fallen where I could see the ground, fallen where I could put my hands out in front of me and catch myself before I hit, fallen where I could have saved myself and gotten back up, looked at my little broken chair, and just moved on, find another one, and start all over. So why did I let my final motion be backwards? Why did I take that final push to force me into a fall I couldn’t see, couldn’t save myself from?

~Because, when you know something is going to hurt, it is a cowards instinct to look away~

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, Uncategorized

On good days I tell myself it’s a way to wash it all away and get a clean slate, and on bad days I try not to speak at all, to avoid drowning in my rush for some peace.

I’m beginning to see how it is

That the sea, so full to its brim,

So overflowing with creatures,

The very blossom of life, can feel

Blank, like the pallet of stars

Our God saw fit to place

Where we can never hope to reach.

 

Inside we hold a universe untold,

The light, hidden as unlit torches,

The bearers our hearts, our brothers

And sisters the sparks to catch

Our very souls on fire.

 

How does an Ocean wash itself clean?

The water flows with the Moon,

That mirror blush from a luminous star,

And clashes against hard creation.

Together, thus does earth turn to lemon sand

And the ocean spray become cerulean tears.

Now, how does the soul burn away sin?

Set out a heart, so that it may too

Someday become as forgiving

As the delicate cinders that become

The ashes, taken by a wind

To become the soot for another;

In that we see how our brothers

And sisters are the very soil

In which our own timbers take root.

 

Still, the Sea is not always against the shore,

As the heart is not always open

To the gentle embers of others.

In that sense, one can see how

Being in an endless ocean can seem

Blank.

The depths await for cleansing,

A steady touch from mother Gaia

To let them know it’s okay to cry.

My soul stands and waits

On an edge, the last glass step

Towards the fiery stars that remain

Just beyond my reach.