A longing for completeness.
A longing to be content.
I sought it in myself.
It only broke me more.
I sought it in my friends.
They were seeking in me.
I sought it in fiction.
I had to come back to reality.
The more I sought, the more I longed.
Finally, I stopped.
Never complete, never content.
Then a soft voice washed over me.
"I will make you complete.
I will make you content."
Where have you been?
Why did you not come before?
"You were seeking everything else, child.
I have been seeking you."
Seek me as I seek you and I will search no longer.
Completeness.
Content.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Saturday, October 17, 2015
A Girl Standing Alone
There was a
girl standing alone.
The pavement
glowed around her, angelic light from a past rain.
She was
waiting, no one knows what for.
Some tried to
guess as they walked by, theories of some life she must live.
But they were
all wrong, her secret was hers alone.
A light
breeze caused her hair to dance around her face.
All the
while, she looked ahead, off into the distance.
Perhaps she
was engrossed in some fantasy, maybe she was living one.
This girl was
a curious mystery, no one was satisfied.
She did not
acknowledge the probing glances, the floating whispers.
Suddenly, she
walks away.
The pavement
still glowed, but with the haunting absence of the girl.
The girl who
stood alone.
I thought I was past this...
I thought I was past this.
I thought I had moved forward.
Perhaps this is my curse.
Maybe I will have to carry this all my days.
Maybe my life will be one step forward then fall on my ass.
Perhaps progress is a myth.
I thought I was healing.
I thought I could roll up my sleeves.
Maybe I was always bleeding.
Perhaps once broken, I was always shattered.
Maybe a broken heart will always bleed.
I thought I was past this.
I thought I was past this...
I thought I had moved forward.
Perhaps this is my curse.
Maybe I will have to carry this all my days.
Maybe my life will be one step forward then fall on my ass.
Perhaps progress is a myth.
I thought I was healing.
I thought I could roll up my sleeves.
Maybe I was always bleeding.
Perhaps once broken, I was always shattered.
Maybe a broken heart will always bleed.
I thought I was past this.
I thought I was past this...
Screwed Up Together (my favorite)
My favorite thing is when we don't have to talk,
When we just understand each other.
I like when we talk and realize we are both broken,
We just sit with our glue and put all the pieces back together.
I love when we seem like old friends when we just met;
When we get each other better than our old friends do.
I love when we are screwed up together;
When we scare the normal people away.
I like when we hate the world together,
When everyone but us sucks.
My favorite thing is when we make each other feel better;
When calling each other names is better than therapy.
So, friend, let's be screwed up together.
That's my favorite thing.
For L
When we just understand each other.
I like when we talk and realize we are both broken,
We just sit with our glue and put all the pieces back together.
I love when we seem like old friends when we just met;
When we get each other better than our old friends do.
I love when we are screwed up together;
When we scare the normal people away.
I like when we hate the world together,
When everyone but us sucks.
My favorite thing is when we make each other feel better;
When calling each other names is better than therapy.
So, friend, let's be screwed up together.
That's my favorite thing.
For L
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