Free Write

Your mouth lies but your eyes tell the truth
So I am searching for proof
Hoping to find fact to affirm my hypothesis
You provide, but in the same stride you deny what everyone else can see

*Listening to The Verve Pipe--The Freshmen
Yes, I know. That is so Indiana high school-esque of me
What can I say? I'm true to my roots...

I Hate My Life (Spoken Word)

I hate my life,
No, really I do,
I don't even know why.
More often than not at night it seems
My voice is silenced by my own screams
Caught in my throat like chip
I drink, It moves
Slowly etching its way down my esophogus.

And it hurts me,
No, really it does,
I am trying to be happy,
But my face is like one of those Walmart smiley face stickers,
Only its red, stained with my tears like blood,
And instead of rolling back prices
I'm rolling back crisis after crisis,
Tipping bottle after bottle,
Only its getting harder to stay a float.

And I am drowning,
No, really, I am sinking like a rock,
Have you heard of the Titanic?
That's me.
And believe me there ain't no happy love scenes,
Cause I am alone
Sinking helplessly into the icey sea,
Slipping seemlessly into the darkness
Only to be escovated when the CO2 I produce is missed
And my silence turns up absent.

And I am cutting,
No, really I am slicing piecies of me,
Like a butcher I am chopping this woman into mince meat,
Hoping to beat new life into her,
With make-up, eyeliner, tweezers like knives,
Attempting to cut down cast eyes and upside down crescent moon shaped lips into a smile and delightful gaze.
Only to find myself sludging through the haze of my own blood when accidently slicing veins and arteries that feed my heart and my self-love.

And I am bleeding
No, really I am gushing.
Sitting in pools of my own viscera and mayheim
And it is only getting deeper.
So against the lifeguards warnings I climb up to the highest diving board
And I commit myself to falling to my mess
I complacently give up
Residing to just live in it because I couldn't study hard enough for this test.

And I am insecure,
No, really insecurity is my daily fit,
I reach into my closet and I clothe myself in it
Low self-esteem
And instead of sifting through hopes and dreams
I am digging through air brushed models and dirty magazines
I am taking limbs from manequins and replacing my own with plastic implants and silcone domes
I am leaping from airplanes of self-unacceptance without a parachute

And I am falling
No, really I am one mis-step from failing
I am holding a hand full of jokers and I at any moment I'll fold
And all you self-righteous bastards staring down your noses at me will say,
"We told you so"
And like my father's ancestors hauled on to ships sold into slavery my mother's lineage
I will sale myself short to poor theological manefestation and half-hearted inclinations
And I will thus be colonized by past indescretions finding sanctity in partial confessions
And there will be none of me left in my possession

They say sometimes things fall apart
But I am always falling apart
And if all the world is a stage I am its greatest actress
Cause I pick up my cross daily
No I pick up my mask daily
And with semi permanent marker on white board face I draw on a smile
And as you pass by I throw you an arbitrary glance

Cause I am a Christian
But really I am a hypocrite
And I wouldn't want you to know that I am a sinner and not a saint
So I live in spray painted surroundings and mirrages of what could be
If I would only let go and say "Hey world this is the real me and I am struggling"
No really I am suffering
No really I am teeter tottering on faith
But the Word says that whomever loves his life will lose
But whomever hates his life for me will save it
And I hate my life
No really I do
So, am I saved?

Adult

Whoa! I'm not an adult,
Put this train on hault,
Suddenly post 18 and everythings all my fault.

All this responsibility sometimes feels like hot boxin' in a car,
Gettin' as high as a kite off of
adult rights, beverages and legal life.

And other times its like a cage,
Hands and feet bound in chains,
Broken legs,
Yeah, I'm lame,
Lowered through a window lookin' at Jesus shoutin,
"Hey! Set me free."
Don't leave me
To my own devices
Cause reality is my choices will become my future vices.

My life feels like the civil war,
North and south unsure what we're figtin' for
Is it to end slavery
Grow and sale cotton or
To keep the union together
For the sake of prosperity
Livin in this capitalistic facade
Serach for my true identity

Nah! I'm not an adult
Realizing my selfish impulses put my development on hault,
Arrested in a palce where I have control,
But since I can't let go of this here facade
I'm dragged around by misguided decisions like a rag doll.

I know I'm wrong,
But gettin' smashed looks likes more fun from the start of the tunnel,
Strugglin' now to take all these opportunities and funnel
What's broken,
Yall see that perception is everything and nothin' at all,
And hey even adults fall.

Truth and Lies

What’s a short fictional story if it makes someone feel good?
Especially when geared towards their desires it does what the truth could.
What’s a white lie or black lie?
Is there a difference?
I think there is and I’ll give you a short reference.
People say the truth will set you free,
But the question is, “To what?”

You told me stories and I believed you,
You were on my short list, one of the trusted few,
Not realizing your fibs are like McD’s,
By the end my heart said, “Please Supersize Me.”

My soul sits full of dissonance,
Truth and lie,
Good and evil,
Ying and yang,
Let’s flip a coin and take a chance.

Sometimes in life it seems like I walk hand-in-hand
With Jesus on the right
The devil on the left
All headed up by a New Orleans funeral band.
We dance merrily as we prance through the streets,
Masked of course,
Hidin’ this eerie beat,
But this music ain’t happy cause it’s a paradox,
And hold up that ain’t no hotel,
That looks like a body box.

So, I lean over to Jesus and ask,
“Did you really die up on that cross?”
Cause the truth is when these lies are converted
Imma be like rotten teeth needing much more than dental floss.
Imma need a cleanin’ from the Professional,
Cause this life has felt like a funeral processional.
These lies have left me dead inside,
I ain’t the quick or the dead,
I’m the livin’ dead.

I’ve been eatin’ poison,
History, music and magazines,
Parents, friends, teachers,
And even siblings.
Folks I never thought brought works with fictional lense,
All their words crash and burn takin’ my soul to a spiritual ends.

But I can’t blame it all on them,
That would be twisted,
Cause I too grabbed that fruit
And fed my mouth double fisted.

Somethin’ said, “This can’t be truth”
So open your mouth and ask for proof,
But I didn’t,
Cause truth be told these lies were like heroine to my soul.
Got me high as a kite, turned my skin pale white,
And when I came down I almost died from this lethal height.

It all feels so good at first,
Feedin’ this endless thirst,
But soon my stomach burst,
And the pain keeps getting’ worse.

All of a sudden the truth it reveals,
And it ain’t good like we think it should feel.

The truth sets you free to reality and sometimes it bites,
You find yourself sittin’ in a dark room prayin’ for any sign or light,
These lies are like my bed bugs and bite me in the night,
I cry,
Wishin’ I could go back in time and set it all right.

That said, here’s what I’ve been set free to,
I’ll forgive and say, “I love you.”
First to myself cause I’m not innocent,
Then I’ll turn to others and try to embrace this relational redevelopment.

I’d be liein’ if I said this doesn’t hurt,
But in movin’ forward I’m speakin’ truth
And sometimes it’s like eatin’ dirt.
There’ve been nights when I’ve cried myself to sleep,
But now that I can feel the light I’m willin’ to take this leap.

When a wound heals it ain’t pretty,
And truth is folks can be sort of petty,
We’ve been infected for a long time,
Often our actions and words have no rhythm or rhyme,
But as these nerves return and this scar develops,
In grace and love I find my soul enveloped.

I am in pain right now,
And it hurts like hell,
But like the old hymn,
In the end,
I will say, “With my soul it is well.”
Like a recovering addict I’m lettin’ go,
And all together too often we’ve been set free
Holding on in fear,
But to what, I don’t know.

The truth has set me free,
It’s somethin’ closer to the real world I see,
So if I’m broken just let me be,
Only my Creator can fix me.

All that said,
Please don’t tell fictional stories just to make someone feel good.
We’re creatin’ addicts who are livin’ far less than they truly could.
And a lie is a lie no matter how you spin it,
You know the truth and it sometimes its hurts,
But let’s try livin’ in it.

Free Write

I never thought that there would ever be a point where death seemed a better option than emotional pain and turmoil. We grow up reading these dramatic love stories and watching sappy movies often thinking, "How silly!" That said, from where where I stand now, the stories and movies seem no less silly, but also all the more truthful--at least in part.

I never had him, but I loved him. My heart is breaking, but not simply because of love lost or unrequited. So much has changed so quickly and it all seems so unfair. Lord, the turmoil you must have felt when your own creation, whom you not simply had but formed with your own hand, turned against You? I can see a small piece of how death became the only option. How deeply you must have loved us Lord, if I a mere human can feel so broken over people I never truly had to this point of realization.

How deep and wide is your love of LORD that You do not turn and run from us because of the the pain.

Living Dead

No music.
No dramatic pause.
Just the nitty gritty and thus the end of an era.
The end of my life as I know it--knew it.
I didn't think I could go on like this,
But my empty vessel,
This corpse of a body will keep moving,
I am the living dead.

Hear say is confusing...

Hear say is confusing,
Especially in regards to matter of the heart,
Seeds pushed down so deep that they tear me apart.

++

(free write)

Knowing what you feel for me is hard.
Why would you tell someone else and not me?
Why would they tell me when you told them to keep it to themselves?
Can I trust what they say?

If it is true, I am afraid.
I am afraid that I may do something that will cause you to stop your feelings for me.

The things that we know can change us.
If you have not yet spoken the truth to me that means that we are not ready to be changed.
By simply knowing I have been changed.
What more will consequently be changed?

++

Hear say is confusing,
Especially in regards to matter of the heart,
Seeds pushed down so deep that they tear me apart.