We had our first

March 17th, 2010.
Thunderstorm.
Rain.
Big Puffy Clouds with sunshine.
Iced Cappuccino.
Geese in the park.
Feeling of the you know what. That big S word.
Spring.

March 18th
Nevermind. It snowed.

Find a Way to Fall

Seven o'clock.
Broke down like a train.
Six fifty two.
Can't clear my head.
Sometimes I fall.
And although they say get up, I would rather stay down.
Than get back up, just to fall again.
My heart and soul are tired.
My eyes yet not dry.
I can't seem to be enough for these times.
Flickering in the wind.
I am not even visible.
Whispering I am not good enough,
you linger in my head.
Heart beating slower.
Eyes grow dim.
This is my life.
I am giving in.

I can't do this anymore.

A moment of wondering if it was worth it. If the affection I gave you was worth it. The hurt I caused, coming back and wounding me far worse. I'm back to 2005. Right back. I regret. I regret being closer. To home, to you, to here. If I could, I would erase myself from the picture your mind creates. Because when you see me, what do you see anymore. Do you see who I used to be, or who I am struggling to become. Do you see that this is not easy for me. Do you see that I am trying. Trying to be disaffected, but I am far more affected than I ever could be. I don't want to go back 5 years. I don't want to look through misty eyes all day long, biting my cheek to make the pain in my mouth more evident than the one in my heart. I can feel your thoughts being flung at me and despite how I try to reject your disgust, my soul is punctured. Over. And over.

Try not to think.
Try not to feel.
Try not to say.
Try not to.
Try not.
Try.

Leave me. Retreive Me.

I write and erase. Hoping not to disturb people if I happen to open my heart too much on a measly blogging website that no one reads anyways. So I will write just what I need to. It will not make sense. Or maybe it will make too much sense.

Please listen to what I have to say. I want You to make me into who You need me to be. But, I need You to be with me through it. Don't leave me. I know for a fact that I will not make it on my own. I need to give You this situation. I need to give you my heart. And what fragile pieces lay around. Please lift this unforgiving and hurt nature from me. Because I can't do this. This is not who I am meant to be. I was told how awful I am, and what hurts the most is that I am beginning to wonder if You feel this way about me. But then you pull me back and remind me. What people say doesn't matter anymore. And only you know my real intentions. Help me to act justly. Help me to love mercy. Help me to walk humbly. Help me to move on. And when I move on, I pray it is in your direction. I am tripping on my thoughts. And I am too tired to lift my feet over them. God. I need you. Please come rescue my heart.

Human Race.

When I was younger, I thought the human race was a beautiful and broken sort of thing. And in some ways, it is. It really is. Of course it is broken. What isn't. But as I get older the beauty seems to be less evident. We live in a fast paced selfish world. And it's hard not to get caught in the strong whirlwind mindset that the world revolves on your very breath. Everyone is so conceited so selfish so unforgiving so human. And it disgusts me each time I see it. Where did this idea come from that if someone hurts you, you have the right to hurt them back just as much. "Why stick up for the kid who made fun of you?" Because everyone you meet is struggling. And everyone needs each other. And there's a reason that person is the way they are. And they are just as precious and fragile as you are. Maybe next time we see our breath evaporating into the air, we'll realize that everyone's breath is evaporating, and if we don't decide to help one another out and love each other, our breath won't have to evaporate. Because we won't be here. This world is dependant upon love and care. Not only of the world itself, but of the people who roam it. The people who are just like me and just like you. So next time you decide to let that kid get bullied, cause he obviously deserves it, think about how they are human and so are you. Get up and stand up. Maybe if we stop living for ourselves, we would see what life is really about.


Do not say, "I'll do to him as he has done to me. I will pay that man back for what he did". Proverbs 24:29

Choosing Someone's Life for Them is not a Life.

I have a life, but I have not lived. I have a heart and a brain. But I have not loved. I have not thought. I have feet. But I still await the day I take my first steps. I have lungs but I do not know what a breath of fresh air tastes like. I have eyes, and they are blue. They long to see the face of my mother and my father. I want to be. I want to be more. I have potential to be great. But it is up to you to let me be. Let me grow and become. Don’t give up on me.

Love that runs deep.

I was recently at an orientation for a job and the assistant manager says "okay, so to close" and I automatically thought we were going to pray. I seriously almost closed my eyes and bowed my head. Before the orientation I was talking to a girl I don't know who was also going to be doing the orientation and who had her first shift alone on cash the following day. I knew the feeling of fear of being on your own to do cash, it was coming to me soon, and I almost said "I'll pray for you". But then stopped myself. Would it have been rude? Or maybe awkward if I'd said that. Maybe she would have laughed. But there's one thing to be noticed. I had prayed earlier that day that God would help me to constantly be thinking of Him. And that's definitely what was going on. I feel like God is a part of my DNA almost. And I got to thinking. I am so lucky, so blessed, that I grew up learning to love God. Learning about him and how to live my life for Him. It came so naturally. I never once doubted that what I was learning and believing was false. For me to love God, is almost as natural as the seasons changing or the wind blowing. It just happens. And I get to thinking. People who are trying to love God and learn about him at a later state in their life, how hard that must be. How hard to have lived your life without Him, and to possibly feel angry at Him for past things. How hard it would be to really love God unabashedly. My heart goes out to these people. I cannot even imagine how hard that might be.