Here
I tug and turn at these random roads only to lead myself back to the one source of confusion. To know whether or not the mind needs a soothing or if the questions I hold deep within cradle the fragile child I am. These moments drift to this queasy emotion that disrupts my very fibers. Even more so when I demand to talk to someone. One man.
How dare I even want to breathe the same air? How do I even want to place my feet beside his? Why do I attempt to appease any kind of sympathy when all I am reminded of was my faults? Why do I say the name in my head? Echoing inside memories that can do nothing but scream inside. What is the point in tormenting myself with all that was once upon a dream?
The possibilities of life have drowned inside those long nights. Still I demand recognition. I do not realize just how important his words are when I am standing alone in the darkness of starlight. And when the shivers roll down my arms into my toes, all I can say is thank you.
These tests I have, these enduring moments where I know I mean nothing to one man but a whole sea to another. This is the gravity that is keeping me still. This is the knowledge that makes me stand tall. This is the reason why I dare to hope.
A faith that no one can shake from me. Here I thought I was broken, forgotten and lost. Here, here. Here I am, seeking the answers that no man can give me. No man can even break into formulas for me to comprehend. No amount of words that crack the core I have within. No man can see who I really am.
For only one man did and I hurt from it. I cried so many tears and withdrew from myself. Calmly placed my hopes, dreams in boxes. Demanded that I drove myself to darkness. Yet in the midst of all the darkness that was trying to swallow me, I saw glimmers of light. Hopes. Goals reemerging.
As the guidelines became structures within me I dared to think that my life would be lined, more of a straightened arrow. Only to realize that to be me, I must allow curves to be held. I must believe that a box only smothers me but a pillow contours the spirit.
It is this kind of softness, kindness that makes me believe that love can overpower everything. And holding onto this hope for decades can be seen, if only in a glance of slipping light. That is the faith of life.
Although now I only forbid myself to perceive what is a lie before the truth. Yes my faults are there. Yes they are a festering wound but the truth is that the festering is the way the poison is exiting my spirit. In all those days, those years I wanted someone to choose me, I realized I had to choose myself. In the rush to have someone love me, I realized that he isn't capable of that. I just wanted to state that life just can't be as you dream it to be.
Some people just never understand the paths crossing nor do they comprehend what God gives you. That is the sadness of all. There always has to be one more. There always has to be someone else to blame. There always has to be a reason. There always has to be greener grass over there. Yet when is it right to admit to yourself, there is here?
Will you ever admit to the core of your spirit and mind, here is the answer?
That is the question I leave with you tonight. When will you admit here as always been here? Never was there another there nor was the here over there. It was just here. Standing in these two feet. Building between this beating heart and this strong mind, chained by this spirit of life. When will you see here, is right here? That life can be saved. That standing in solitude is just perfectly imperfect within this circle?
Alas I cannot answer for you. I can only answer these questions for myself. I am here. Here is where I have always been. Whether that is part of my faults, then do go ahead, blame me. But do not ever take down to depths of your darkness only to blame me for the blackness you sought. I am not the blame.
I take ownership of what I have done, long ago. I know my stake and I carry it. Though I feel pity because you have yet to recognize just how flayed you are on a pike. I am very well aware of the depth you go, and I am grateful to be too far away to kick, stomp or slap the skin that holds you tightly.
So be mad if you like, but I have spoken depths and yet no answers will reach your mind if you don't ask. Ah ha the clicking has begun. And so the day turns to night. Then back again.
Is there, here? Or is here, over there and there? That is what I ask you now.
How dare I even want to breathe the same air? How do I even want to place my feet beside his? Why do I attempt to appease any kind of sympathy when all I am reminded of was my faults? Why do I say the name in my head? Echoing inside memories that can do nothing but scream inside. What is the point in tormenting myself with all that was once upon a dream?
The possibilities of life have drowned inside those long nights. Still I demand recognition. I do not realize just how important his words are when I am standing alone in the darkness of starlight. And when the shivers roll down my arms into my toes, all I can say is thank you.
These tests I have, these enduring moments where I know I mean nothing to one man but a whole sea to another. This is the gravity that is keeping me still. This is the knowledge that makes me stand tall. This is the reason why I dare to hope.
A faith that no one can shake from me. Here I thought I was broken, forgotten and lost. Here, here. Here I am, seeking the answers that no man can give me. No man can even break into formulas for me to comprehend. No amount of words that crack the core I have within. No man can see who I really am.
For only one man did and I hurt from it. I cried so many tears and withdrew from myself. Calmly placed my hopes, dreams in boxes. Demanded that I drove myself to darkness. Yet in the midst of all the darkness that was trying to swallow me, I saw glimmers of light. Hopes. Goals reemerging.
As the guidelines became structures within me I dared to think that my life would be lined, more of a straightened arrow. Only to realize that to be me, I must allow curves to be held. I must believe that a box only smothers me but a pillow contours the spirit.
It is this kind of softness, kindness that makes me believe that love can overpower everything. And holding onto this hope for decades can be seen, if only in a glance of slipping light. That is the faith of life.
Although now I only forbid myself to perceive what is a lie before the truth. Yes my faults are there. Yes they are a festering wound but the truth is that the festering is the way the poison is exiting my spirit. In all those days, those years I wanted someone to choose me, I realized I had to choose myself. In the rush to have someone love me, I realized that he isn't capable of that. I just wanted to state that life just can't be as you dream it to be.
Some people just never understand the paths crossing nor do they comprehend what God gives you. That is the sadness of all. There always has to be one more. There always has to be someone else to blame. There always has to be a reason. There always has to be greener grass over there. Yet when is it right to admit to yourself, there is here?
Will you ever admit to the core of your spirit and mind, here is the answer?
That is the question I leave with you tonight. When will you admit here as always been here? Never was there another there nor was the here over there. It was just here. Standing in these two feet. Building between this beating heart and this strong mind, chained by this spirit of life. When will you see here, is right here? That life can be saved. That standing in solitude is just perfectly imperfect within this circle?
Alas I cannot answer for you. I can only answer these questions for myself. I am here. Here is where I have always been. Whether that is part of my faults, then do go ahead, blame me. But do not ever take down to depths of your darkness only to blame me for the blackness you sought. I am not the blame.
I take ownership of what I have done, long ago. I know my stake and I carry it. Though I feel pity because you have yet to recognize just how flayed you are on a pike. I am very well aware of the depth you go, and I am grateful to be too far away to kick, stomp or slap the skin that holds you tightly.
So be mad if you like, but I have spoken depths and yet no answers will reach your mind if you don't ask. Ah ha the clicking has begun. And so the day turns to night. Then back again.
Is there, here? Or is here, over there and there? That is what I ask you now.
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