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I spent twenty minutes arranging the wine, bread, and tablecloth, and another hour in the garden picking flowers, all for Jesus. I felt the room breathing with its own life before I ever even sat down on the couch. Last year I spilled the wine, this time the bread falls off the plate, cracking on the floor, Christ's broken body - I'm so imperfect, small, a wailing babe. I want to promise I'll be good for the rest of my life, but that is impractical. You and I know better. You know there's too much settled dust on this body, just as there was on the fine porcelain dishes mother pulled from the china cabinet. My footprints are muddy,

Your name etched in sorrow, Crimson lines upon my heart, Your words in bloody furrows, They tear my soul apart. A million poems I wrote for you Torn notes and tears remain. Cold and distant this is true With a million reasons, I must explain: A million reasons (I wish you’d stayed)     All excuses for me to break A million reasons (Each one a blade)     They burrow into my veins A million reasons (I blame myself)     You were always just a fake A million reasons (Mistakes I made)     I long to throw off your chains. A million pieces is all I am, I’m the man of glass no more, I was never truly worth a damn, A million shards

Reach May 12, 2017 darling, R R R E A C H for my hand; i'll meet you halfway and R R R E A C H for yours. we'll brave life and face the world together, mano a mano, none of us have to be alone in any of this...

When resonating souls fall out of rhythm Lost, floating in opposite directions, steered by the undertow This bittersweet sorrow of goodbye, they are to know Words unspoken left harrowing wounds Till the soul became broken, an echoic room’s unrequited echo This bittersweet sorrow of goodbye, they are to know Abolished alliances and sore yet sweet remembrances Oh such disdain, they dare not show Such is the bitterness of goodbye’s sorrow.

They met inexplicably in a concert hall with watered-down beers in hand and friendships on call. Clever words fluttered from him like a politician; civic cuts, kittenish luck, and topical dishes, compliments dancing on like honest free-for-alls. The time between then and now was a bit of a ball, or, more properly, the willing subject of a brawl. Despite open rejection and self-destruction still, there’s twenty-eight layers of her heart left to see. Adventure: it seemed to be a thing of the past, and she’d lived enough of life to know it doesn’t last. Paying the bills with a submissive ambition, she knew insi

Foreword - Understanding this poem. THIS POEM CONTAINS: SUICIDAL THEMES, DISTRESSING THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS, ONE SUB-POEM THAT SHOWS AGGRESSION TO GOD (THIS IS THE EXPRESSION OF FEELING ABANDONMENT AND BECAUSE IT WAS A MOVEMENT WHERE I BECAME ATHEIST) IF YOU ARE NOT MENTALLY HEALTHY, SENSITIVE ETC. PLEASE ONLY READ THIS POEM OF YOUR OWN ACCORD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. This is all one poem with subsequent;  meshed, blended and mixed smaller poems to build this letter. The full poem contains messages in: - The whole poem - Each subsequent poems in the text - And each stanza relates to a past emotional discord, I have endured. This poem

The birds are about The clouds are out So let's go and find Some sort of mind That does not care Or fare But to where we want to go Silver lining And golden sunshine Paint the way for us Let's see where it takes us To a faerie field Full of daytime wheels We can spin to wherever Acrid blossom bells Wave goodbye our cells So let's not disappoint And in their bright wave join With farewell So swell As our minds overflow with chance Our feet are lively Our smiles are wide Do not hesitate But to smell and taste The candyfloss Overcast thought Like children's memories Cruel mares can slumber With all the other Starving depressions And miscompr

I had another dream last night. I was walking down an empty road, lined with some sparse trees. The sun gave everything a slightly orange hue, making everything seem old and dry. I am alone in this place. My feet make a good distraction, as well as counting the cracks in the pavement. There are many cracks, and the road seems to go on forever. I do this for a long time, in the back of my mind listening for an engine, or maybe even a person’s voice. After what feels like hours, I see a person in the distance. He is alone, hugging his knees in the fetal position. I call out to him, and he doesn’t move. I run toward him, but onc