Congested

People don't realize the joy of loving.
Not only does in make me sad
that people aren't loving
because that means that people are
deathfully unloved,
but because they don't realize
that giving love
is like giving a hug.
You get it all back.
So love.
I wish we would love;
love the trees and thank them
for giving us air to breathe;
love the children we pass on the street
and let them make us smile;
love putting a penny on the ground
on heads
just so someone else can have some good luck;
that's as easy as loving is,
as easy as putting a penny on the street.
Will you miss it?
No, but the smile is a scary thought,
that you could enjoy something that silly,
and miss the big WHAMBAM that will bring you happiness,
even though happiness is the most silent thing in the world.
Like freeway traffic during rush hour,
we are all to busy being frustrated
trying to get somewhere
that we can't let someone else in.
I stand still and watch,
and wish someone would stand still with me.

An Odd Duo

You are a microwave and I am a cd.

You get stuff done and I entertain.

Together, we're not all that functional,

but oooh....pretty colors...

Don't know why

Don't know why
I thought of you today
of how you would cry
every time you'd pray.

Don't know why
it always made my day
to kiss your whiskered face
before going out to play

Don't know why
you had to go away,
but I don't cry,
because you're with Jesus today.

Look Up

Stop looking down.
You look down on yourself for not measuring up;
not being worth
agape:
true, unconditional love.

You look down on others for being unfair;
not giving you what you crave:
agape:
true unconditional love.

You look down all around
absolutely everywhere
for anyone who can give you
agape:
true, unconditional love.

Stop looking down.

Look up.
There is a God who is perfect
and is giving you
agape:
true, unconditional love
that will never leave
ever.

Look up.

Tired

I'm sick of running and running and getting nowhere.
I'm sick of fighting,
I just want to fall into your arms.

Wasteland

In a place white-walled and windless,
I am wandering wantonly,
Wincing witlessly,
Winning wits,
Wasting wisdom,
while watched without wear
by wicked watchdog wannabes
below winking wraiths of woolgathering whim
wishing for wantonness;
waiting...

Remember

Just because nobody is in love with you,
it doesn't make you any less beautiful.

Free Blackbird

You were my blackbird,
I was your feather.
For a while, I helped you to fly,
but now you've let me go.

You are still flying,
I am fallen,
but maybe I'll get picked up
and tucked under someone's hair.

Freedom?

Chaos turns to order

Order to chaos

And I wish my thoughts would let me go.

Doesn't Matter

Just another instance where
it doesn't matter
how smart, beautiful,
or talented I am,
I still can't get my heart's desire.
It doesn't make a difference.

What's the use of confidence
in yourself
if nobody has confidence
in you?
It doesn't get you anywhere.

Needlework

I used red threads
and a sharp needle,
and I embroidered a heart,
just a small one,
on the inside corner
of your brown gloves.
That way only you knew
that you held my heart
in the palm of your hand.
Our secret.

You made several cups of coffee,
climbed trees,
gave hugs,
played games,
and the small, embroidered heart

lost some threads;
warped
until it was a red smear,

but even though it's wrecked,
you know it's still there.

That's why you only wear your black gloves
nowadays.

Every Day

Every step is new and heavy;
every hello a broken smile.
"You are wholly precious", said He,
still, my heart aches all the while.

Today

Instead of living like today
is your last day,
like like it's your first.
All of the bad things that happened
and identities you've had
in the past
should be erased,
and live from today forward,
and have hope anew.

Polaroid

I look at old pictures of you and I
and see how quickly time can fly,
and as it does, how things can change;
how now those memories seem so strange.

I see that bright smile on my face
as it nestles into your shoulder: the softest place.
The picture is burned into my brain,
and I wonder if I'll ever smile that way again.

In those photos we were in another world,
and it's like I'm looking at another girl:
smiling, blissful, and ever free.
Is it possible that girl was even me?

Clipped Wings

I feel like a fallen angel
whose wings have been clipped.
With a little light,
I could grow them back,
but I'm living in darkness.

Forget

I feel a bit forgotten sometimes,
but maybe I should be forgetting.

Everyone.
All the pain, all the anxiety
all the bad
that has been my life up to today
and start fresh.

The past is behind me,
and I need to keep looking ahead.

Just like a recovering bulimic has to train
her esophagus to keep down food,
I must train to keep life down.

Don't look back.
Look forward.
Forget.

Reality

I wake up with a fright.
You say, "It's okay. It was just a dream."
The problem is, that my dreams reflect reality,
and all I realize when I wake up is what a nightmare my life has become.

Sorry, Paul McCartney

I believe with all my heart that
all we need is love.
Unfortunately, we chase not our needs but our wants,
and a solo heart cannot rise above.

Take a sad song, and make it better,
would be a lovely dream,
but our world doesn't want to sing,
or so to my aching, empty ears it would seem.

And if a blackbird sings in the dead of night,
it will fall on deaf ears, never a song unfurled,
because, as endless dreams suggest,
nothing's gonna change my world.