Thursday, July 17, 2008
Yearning
My heart yearns for another place at another time—a time when things were happier. It seems my soul is drying out, withering in this shallow existence of my present-tense. Today, tomorrow, yesterday—which is it now? The days appear to be running together, mixing, and spiraling out of control until today is yesterday, tomorrow is a dream, and yesterday is but a memory of another lifetime. I peer out into the grey shades which I call a world and the mundaness causes me to look away. It’s been so long since joy has truly entered this dwelling, but I got tired of being stepped on by others and seeing people being used. I was tired of not feeling good enough and knowing I was destined for so much more. This fragile organ within my chest broken when so many had trampled on it, but now I find it hardening, becoming trapped in this shell of a human being. My mind rules my emotions now and logic is all that seems to make sense. I pose questions: “Can I truly love again, is there any emotion left, am I ever going to feel love or is it worry of being alone that compels me to think I’m in love, and if I do feel again is it love or lust that drives me?” Then I ask, “Is my mind so in control that every detail must be calculated or does faith still have room?” These questions of my hear and soul, I ask and so many more, but I truly have no answers to give. And so, I yearn for that other place and time when answers come so easily and there you were…
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Spurned
In the stillness, I was with you, feeling you, kissing you as only I could. On every moment, I hung to them. The rising of your chest, the beating of your heart, the smile on your lips-they all told me that you were really there, but they lied. The dawn awakened me, the air around me faded and the dream flushed away. Maybe this is the dream, maybe I can awaken from this nightmare and still be beside you. You, my angel, can you not still feel my arms as they held you close? Can you not taste the fervent kiss I place on your lips? Can you not understand that I want with everything my soul possesses to make things the way they were? Can you not love me again?
Once, I heard you call out my name; with passion and joy you told me that you had fallen in love with me, but those were only words. The feelings in your heart spurned me; you lied, oh but they were the best of lies. Still, I grabbed for every fleeting moment I could with you. I knew somewhere that you had become distant, your thoughts had turned from me, your feelings changed. You told me there was no other, but indeed there was, it was called greed. I had nothing to offer and you still insisted on having everything. You always wanted more and my heart was not good enough.
My final words to you, I spoke in passion. Filling my heart with all the emotion I could muster, I sang you a sonnet that only the angels could have interpreted any fairer. Yet you resolved your heart against me and your ears did listen no more. The silence lied, your mouth spoke not, but your actions said all.
And my heart now lies each time I sleep, for your image is forever engraved there beneath the folds of anger, hatred and guile. I tell others of my treacherous past, but still my heart beats in time with yours. My joy is not in myself, it is as it always has been in making you happy. Lost am I to the lies, am haunted by them and one day they will disappear when another comes and lies to me once again.
Once, I heard you call out my name; with passion and joy you told me that you had fallen in love with me, but those were only words. The feelings in your heart spurned me; you lied, oh but they were the best of lies. Still, I grabbed for every fleeting moment I could with you. I knew somewhere that you had become distant, your thoughts had turned from me, your feelings changed. You told me there was no other, but indeed there was, it was called greed. I had nothing to offer and you still insisted on having everything. You always wanted more and my heart was not good enough.
My final words to you, I spoke in passion. Filling my heart with all the emotion I could muster, I sang you a sonnet that only the angels could have interpreted any fairer. Yet you resolved your heart against me and your ears did listen no more. The silence lied, your mouth spoke not, but your actions said all.
And my heart now lies each time I sleep, for your image is forever engraved there beneath the folds of anger, hatred and guile. I tell others of my treacherous past, but still my heart beats in time with yours. My joy is not in myself, it is as it always has been in making you happy. Lost am I to the lies, am haunted by them and one day they will disappear when another comes and lies to me once again.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Holding On
Questions flock to a mind that holds only the bounds of what the finite can accomplish; the infinite answers of so much emotion can be explained only through the eyes of those who have seen it. Stepping out into this unknown blackness that surrounds a life, one can only perceive what is directly in front of them, not what is around the corner or across the hill. But it is in the steps we take--the journey we live--that makes the destination so important. It seems the fleeting changes of this world have to be but memories upon a pinhead existence for only a breath are we to the vast expanse of eternity. Because life doesn't explain what we must do, we come to this world full of emotion, we are given a brain and one chance to make things happen for ourselves, but the finality is when the time comes and we do not take it, our moment has passed and the future is set. It is our choices that make us who we are and those choices mold our existence into a reality that only God and we know about. The unknown feelings, the hurtful mockeries that we tell ourselves, they only exist in ourselves. We hide them so deep inside that there are no keys to open them, no secret passwords to process them, no way for us to let them go.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
A Welcome Notice
Welcome, to all those who enter this hallowed place. May you leave a bit more enlightened when you leave.
per·am·bu·late
The custom of walking, inspecting, and redefining boundaries, particularly those of a parish. This sometimes results in documents giving a verbal description of the boundaries and the features along it. The earliest perambulations in England are of Saxon date.
This site will be dedicated to the boundaries of my mind and my universe. Though most perambulations deal with land, I hope that this will be a journey of both the physical and metaphysical with a bit of emotion thrown in.
Please do not wander too far off the edge as it is a dangerous place, but definitely do not stay between the lines.
per·am·bu·late
The custom of walking, inspecting, and redefining boundaries, particularly those of a parish. This sometimes results in documents giving a verbal description of the boundaries and the features along it. The earliest perambulations in England are of Saxon date.
This site will be dedicated to the boundaries of my mind and my universe. Though most perambulations deal with land, I hope that this will be a journey of both the physical and metaphysical with a bit of emotion thrown in.
Please do not wander too far off the edge as it is a dangerous place, but definitely do not stay between the lines.
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