Not that I'd forgotten, more or less a little too busy
I thought maybe I'd just wait another day to call
A more convenient time perhaps, when life wasn't so filled
With sex and desire
And I feel stupid coming here now, too late
Out of place and afraid – of rejection
Of not getting what I want, which is? The answer, to my nagging
self, and I've discovered self doubt and along with found me
insecurity, but with you I never knew what today might feel like
alone, still breathing, I've forgotten your number—your middle name
I can't catch my breath – the air's really thick here you know?
I don't remember any of this from before – would I recognize you if you were here today?
Would I grab your hand? Could I again…did I ever, seek humility
life less pride – what purpose have I served thus far, what strength have you granted
that I noticed?
Where has my grace filled grateful heart gone? Where would I go if the world were stripped away from me? Where is the stillness of my dwelling place, my solitude, my warmth in a room all alone…all alone?
Where is the escape, the arms—of the world, of ever single living, breathing soul—here and gone…where are you that I once knew?
And who am I becoming that I can no longer sing…rebellion for liberation? For what…for whose acceptance and approval am I living?
Doubt. Is it that? Whispering approvals, "yes" understood by the selves of so many individual...where was I then? Where were you? What twist caused this…gradual…step down, turn, release, space between—fluid filled—broken, swollen, torn aftermath
Where is my conviction then? When I'm broken. When I'm torn. When I'm filled, emptied and filled again…with what?
With whom?
With it…can you quit
what you don't even understand how it was you began…
through the bitterness can you become again, what you've lost. Is that the goal. Does it require this much…decision making. Or are we always deciding, searching, wondering, questioning, straining,
upset at ourselves for becoming everything we once would hate.
And that hatred lives in my heart makes it break even more, because that's the only way to explain it—brokenness.
Even every single word I've ever tried to create into poetry cannot explain the void I've escaped into for so long now it's become natural.
They don't even know I ever claimed You. They never heard me sing through tears on bended knee at the alter, the pew, the front steps, stage, back door, wind ridden sand shores, the streets flooding in midnight rains, folding chairs, in hallways and sanctuaries
Is this living at all…where do I go to seek redemption through truth? Where do I go to regain my trust, Yours?
Where do I shed my tears and break the skin of my palms…whose feet…whose arms…whose hand needs holding?
Lead me. Need me. See me. Redeem. Forgive. Understand, I'm confused and seeking and forever I'm loving in so many different ways.
A love even I cannot understand – a love without simplicity
Uncategorized, without limit, the soft sooth of remembrance without regret
Experience freed from expectation;
Only wishing, needing, wanting – to please, fulfill
Fill You.
Feel me again please…I'm fighting it still.
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