FYI: My account is in memory of Jesebelle. Maybe someday I'll spring for a subscription so I can go back in the archives and dig up her stuff. She was here long, long, looooooooooong ago.


This HoleI dug this hole Labored so hard Dug it deep Deep enough To bury these crimes I committed against Me Not to hide Not to forget But to mourn To heal And say good bye I dug this hole Strained to my limit Each shovelful Tearing me up Cutting me deep Shattering the remnants Of unrealized dreams This wound is real You see I dug this hole In the center Of my heartThis Hole


ImmatureWe're really just foolish children Playing at things we don't understand Looking around us in wonder Not noticing the danger creeping upImmature
Truly so innocent in the lack of such Wisdom gained is nothing more Than knowing not to touch a hot stove No guide for navigating this world
They ask us why we would do this We can only shake our head in confusion No motivation but to live in this moment Survive in this moment to see ourselves grown
Foolish children playing their games Not understanding when they don't win I'll take my toys home, and you


Price Too HighI dug deep into my pockets I thought I had this covered I really did Bounced that check Damn, that's not how I roll You know that You knew that Now you know nothing Except I'm a pauper Unworthy of a castle Too poor for a crown Mentally Emotionally Morally Bankrupt Covered in your red ink Spiritually I'm counting my pennies Not a single one worth trading For a gilded promise Not even at bargain basement pricesPrice Too High


Love's FinaleDon't chastise me with nonsensical profanities that will leave me reeling in your wake My mind blindly skirting possibilities in all redundant scenario's, of where to go from hereLove's Finale
The insistent rasp of screaming voices fill my head, clouding my reason and placing me in a vulnerable state My heart beats wildly in my chest akin to a trapped bird struggling to find its wings, to fly free, to be safe
A palpable place I seek, to rest my heart, to heal in seclusion and to rid me of tainted ills and wrongs To love, has me imprisoned within reality and insanity, &nbs


Conversation with God IYou got mad at me that day I got high on communion wine and tied your rosary around my hips and told you I could talk to God. I could read the lines on his cheeks right through these calloused palms and I loved how his voice rose up tempered and clear like spring, not thin and waspy like you promised. He called me by name and while his coat was too long for me to see his feet, I knew he did not wear shoes and anger was not his road.Conversation with God I
He took my hand to walk and told me there was no shame in falling with grace &nb
| I'm here to have a place to gather my writings, mostly my poetry. I have a blog that contains my thoughts-turned-prose, but I feel like my poetry deserves its own special place. I've been writing poetry off and on for over half of my life, and I will post most of what I've written. I won't lie, a lot of it is sad and yearning. |
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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~End Nestea Bottle Abuse~
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