Questions.

Skin

Bones

Face 

Clothes

They're distracting me

Pain

Cold

Frail

Old

Why do I still feel

Awkward

Shy

Bitter

Cry

Longing yet alone

House

Home 

City

Roam

We do not belong

Stress

Give

Spend

Live

I am waxing tired

Favor

Youth

Looks 

Truth

Fleeting fancy lies

Love

Hate

Kiss

Berate

Isolated souls

Deadline

Clock

Sprint

Walk

Time is running out

Hope

Fear

Blurred 

Clear

Yet, He holds me still

Dragon Girl

Eyes glazed
Apathy
Girl c-can you hear me
Move through life fast asleep
Never knowing
Inner beast

In the darkness
Starved for light
Born alone, spawn of night
Death-sleep… comatose
Never waking up
But your time has come

Something’s stirring
Can you feel that
Burning in your gut
Scales a crimson glow
Baby light it up
Cry, roar,
Find out what you’re made for
World ablaze
Gone crazed
You’re the dragon girl

You kept it in so long
Silent cold and dark
Wake up wake up
Flash glassy eyes
Girl you bear the mark
Of destiny this is your time
So rise on wings of fire

Iron-sides, muscled out
Liquid flame within
Shining, rippling flesh
All this time
While you just slept
You had the power to win

Something’s stirring
Can you feel that
Burning in your gut
Scales a crimson glow
Baby light it up
Cry, roar,
Find out what you’re made for
World ablaze
Gone crazed
You’re the dragon girl

Illogical.

Poem about feelings of frustration I have with my INFP personality and ridiculous inability to compromise or concede in romantic endeavors:

•••

I fight for logic.

I'm reasonably reasonable

about almost any thing.

But, I cannot apply that to my heart.

I am an idealist

despite my protests

against my daydreaming,

emotional, overly romantic

self.  

In my heart of hearts 

I want nothing more 

than understanding, affection,

and mutual oneness with

another.

But these are high demands...

Though they might seem 

simplistic, the combined criteria

is quite possibly

unobtainable.

I long to give logic reign;

let it "give and take..."

...Weigh the worth of 

hopes and dreams, and then, decide.

...Decide to give up

ideals; expectations; desires... 

Decide to compromise:

to meet its needs and find

contentment.

But logic cannot beat 

a fiercely beating heart...

No, logic cannot fight

determined souls and 

win. 

So, I will live, likely, alone: 

longing, searching, trying...

Experimenting; crying...

Faking fulfillment, but never feeling

love.

He Says

He says my name.

As a humble cashier,

I've oft known the irks

of manipulative customers

taking advantage of name tags. 

I've come to detest 

the sound of my name

from their lips.

But he says my name.

I don't mind it from family,

but it won't give me chills...

Not hardly.

Besides, they rarely use it.

They can simply gesture; 

it's implied...

They know me well.

Yet... He says my name.

I noticed, because,

the first time he used it,

it wasn't a necessary component

of his very precise 

sentence structure.

The sound ran through me

like pop rocks.

He says my name.

It still gives me

happy feelings

every time.

I've no idea why this simple thing 

has such power...

But it does, and I love it.

He says my name. 

Like-Minds.

Drip drop 

no, a flood --

You've op'ed the pump up wide --

Once you start I cannot stop; 

you awake my mind.

It's simple, then, evolves in minutes

from generic to highly intriguing.

I will talk to you for hours,

if I'm not a bother.

Let's talk, for hours.

It's only fun when I know you're happy,

so when you are, 

I come alive. My very soul blooms 

when it's with you.

But distrust

or disfavor,

perceived or in truth,

slays me -- crush my heart;

I will shrink like a flower 

if you do not give me water.

I do not know how to navigate

this new and frightening field,

but I'm excited. There's fluttering in my chest --

Just take my hand and hold it; I'll be fine.

Yearning Heart

So, my heart's hurting, and I'm questioning where I am in my walk with God, since I'm not really /walking/ anymore and I feel like I'm useless as a Christian due to comfortable apathy and yeaaaaahh I need prayer and stuff. Thanks. Also poem. Yay. 

It hurts, 

self-awareness.

I think that's why 

we love our distractions

our apathy

our pretty little lies

I think that's why I'm searching

I think that's why I yearn

I think it's why our love fades

why there's fear behind our eyes.

It hurts, 

self-awareness.

Hurts to know,

to realize

that your passion,

your resolve and dedication 

is only crumbled memory

I'm grasping, I'm clinging,

like a fool to broken ropes

not wanting to know

but still glowing with hope

Like embers in ashes

like a star in cityscape

the hope glows, but it's false;

I've lost what I once knew.

It hurts, 

self-awareness.

Dear God, my God

I'm still clutching 

at memories of you

and in the still moments, 

I ache to know again

But I can't 

at least not right away.

It's hurting, it's part of me, 

but it's dimming, and now...

Now I don't know where to start. 

Idealists and their Umbrellas

I'm a walking contradiction

a flip-flop or a wind

Unpredictable as magic

and yet; it all makes sense. 

I am at once

a cynic

and dreamer...

Relativist,

yet moral.

I hate the world

and people

Yet adore them,

flaws and all.

I am beautiful

yet plain

Highly intellectual

while painfully thick.

Introvert --

I'm quiet,

Or I'm chatty as a squirrel

but that depends on you.

I'm not sure 

how to deal with me

or predict 

my brain's whims.

I suppose it's like 

the weather:

If it's sunshine,

bring an umbrella.

Ode to my Toopid-Face Brain

I hate my brain for doing this
the insensitive little nut.

Every time my heart breaks, it churns out art 

like malfunctioning machinery
in a haunted, abandoned factory

It can't fix the hurt
so it gives up, leaving the task to time
I may not sleep for weeks, but hey, it's telling me I'm fine.

So I'll turn out a novel and tune out my heart
I'll paint a picture of you
I'll churn out some music, I'll focus on art
I'll manage to live with the pain

They say an artist's greatest works
come from his saddest days
all I know is that this hurts
I don't care what art has to say

But I'll turn out a novel and tune out my heart
I'll paint a picture of you
I'll churn out some music, I'll focus on art
I'll manage to live with the pain

I hate my brain for doing this
but you know, I'm sure I'll be fine.

Too Weird?

I've always been okay

with odd looks

for being a tad bit mad

in a proper, concise little world

I've always prided myself 

on being weird

on being circles and swirls

in a very squared-up community

And I've never bothered

to care much

when I have to stand alone

a random singularity in a crowd

But I'm starting to wonder

I'm starting to worry

I'm starting to question the quo...

when I'm around you... I feel I need to know

Is it weird to say

"I miss you," "I like you," or the like

Is it considered too insane, 

too opposite of shy?

I've never cared what 

people thought

but I surely care 'bout you

So, I'll beg the question only once:

"Do you miss me too?"

Ode to the John Ross Chair

~Ode to the John Ross Chair~

Subtle yet stately,

your place is unmoving...

Your sleek blue leather

a symbol of understated

patriarchy

You are highest privilege:

untouched by the unworthy...

But your arms extend 

to include those considered 

family

You are the pride and joy 

of your honorable namesake.

The affection shown you is

genuine, warm, and ongoing...

Always.

Strong and sure,

uphold this family through

changing times. Remain a support

through chaos and upheaval...

Unmoving.

In turn you will be

cared for lovingly 

by John Ross and family

(And, of course, the cleaning lady)

as long as their name endures.

Sparrows

Here's to the lonely ones

In a crowd but you never connect

Here's to the awkward kids

Cry at night yeah you're a wreck

You try so hard 

You practice good

But then it all comes crashing 

like you knew it would

We're angels falling to the earth in fire

We're sparrows with torn wings

We're brilliant, trapped with the face of a child

We're banished, dethroned kings

We're queens who cannot rule

Yeah our kingdom's in our reach 

but we cannot find the key

No we cannot find the key 

Here's to the misfit ones

Loyal with no friends 

Here's to the outcast ones

Who long to make amends

You try new things

You're branching out

But you trip and fall just before you fly 

And no one can hear your shout

We're angels falling to the earth in fire

We're sparrows with torn wings

We're brilliant, trapped with the face of a child

We're banished, dethroned kings

We're queens who cannot rule

Yeah our kingdom's in our reach 

but we cannot find the key

No we cannot find the key 

Here's to the ones who wanna be free

Of the chains that hold you back 

Here's to the kids trying their best

But you just can't learn the act

Don't give up now

I see the tear stains in your eyes

But you've come far I know you have

Don't let your courage die

We're angels falling to the earth in fire

We're sparrows with torn wings

We're brilliant, trapped with the face of a child

We're banished, dethroned kings

We're queens who cannot rule

Yeah our kingdom's in our reach 

but we cannot find the key

No we cannot find the key 

Love like Nature

Whisper to me of fire
Of blue, of red, of gold
Whisper to me

Sing to me like the wind
Soft curls then biting teeth
Sing to me 

Summon me as does the forest
Siren-like, misty, cold pines
Summon me

Welcome me like a grassy field
Prickly, wild fur of the earth
Welcome me

Speak to me as do the ocean's swells
Roaring, yet soothing and constant 
Speak to me

Twirl me around like a twister
Tear me away, show me the world
Twirl me around


Shine on me like a harvest moon
Yellow white gleam on closed eyelids
Shine on me

Touch my face like the sun
Warm and kind, yet burning
Touch my face

Kiss me like water from heaven
Dew drops, and flurries, and rain
Kiss me

Hold me as if you were gravity
Leaping, but always grounded; safe
Hold me

Envelop my heart as bright Nature has
Be all that she is, yet now in one form
Envelop my heart

Strike the Match

What if I 

What if you

What if we

What if we were meant to be

I know you're walking by yourself

Tune your drums, that sick beat

But underneath are you ever lonely?

Are you kinda lonely, just like me?

You say that you have had enough

And you joke about how you're hurt

But I see hope in your eyes 

It's the same look as in my mine

What if I 

What if you

What if we

What if we were meant to be

I know we're jaded

But at least we feel the same

So maybe sparks have faded

In the past -- who cares, let's build a fire

Lay down your tinder, I'll strike the match

We'll carry the logs together

Lay down your tinder I'll lend you my scraps

Then we can sit by the fire

What if I 

What if you

What if we

What if we were meant to be

It may not work, and we may fall

We may both fall together

But are you ever scared that this is it?

Why should it have to be?

So let's warm our hands

Yes, fire can change the world

From bluest skies to ash

But it's worth a try, we know it is

So c'mon.... I'll strike the match.