'''let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out..."

i can't stop writing.

i don't know what to do.
i know what i want.
she says she doesn't know.
does she know what she doesn't want.
i hope.
cuz i can't do this all alone.


shalom.

now lisening to: lovedrug

type anger. type anger like a mad man banging the piano. this is the song of words i write tonight.

"what kind of vermin are creeping on the streets tonight
it's 4 am and i am creeping on the streets tonight."

it's all jacked. it is. i don't know how else to decribe it. 8 hrs. at a gas station in the middle of the cold winter's night and a 7 hr drive to a place i call home and it's still not enough time to realize why i should not hate my life.

cliche-turned, serious words cannot help me now.
i have already drowned. the water lets me breathe though. and i aim towards the waves.

"i'll save my life for something good..."

i don't know where the air hits the sea, but i know it's up there. i know the way is up. the way is up. it's hard. i won't deny.

"sometimes we all black out..."

even though i consent to it not being easy, sometimes my mind doesn't fully understand.

and i break down. and i break down. i go crazy. i get mad. i hurt myself. i hurt others. and i cry. i cry like i've just discovered what tears were. it must be this way. i must learn. life is not a middle school classroom anymore. it is a painful molding. placed up on a mantle piece only to be shattered upon the floor boards. let the janitor mop me up and save the pretty pieces as skipping stones for the near by pond.

only guitar solos and passionate screams can describe the violence of what it feels like.

"suck it up.
dry your tears.
i'll lift you up.
says the angel here,
little girl,
feel the rage,
turn your head,
walk yourself down that hall,
and put yourself to bed..."

the song ends. i begin. look around. all i see is the emptiness. but i'll stand up and walk anyways.

shalom.

love, showering down.

i thought i could never know anything.
this world.
this body.
this God and all his thoughts.
i was lying to myself.
i didn't realizing i was lying until after the blade hit my skin.
what was i doing?
an unfilled prophecy of the unprophetic.
a man replacing God's true answer with an incomplete one.

we all try to do it.
look over to the porch.
a man with a dead mother.
drink, drink, drink...
a woman with a hunger for starvation.
do not think, think, think...
a heart that bleeds for the one he sees as a soulmate.
drink, drink, drink,
do not think, think, think...

we'll all try to cover up pain,
with other pain.
cuts, bruises, empty stomachs,
distractions.
all distractions from what God's answer is--
Him.
Love.
Showering down upon us like dollar bills in a Vegas casino.
why do we reject it?
we'll never know.


"my body does what i don't want,
what i want my body does not."
the answer is simple,
but easily forgot.


it could be easier.
but my soul would bleed.

so it will be harder,
and my flesh will bleed.

all over the ground,
for no one too see,

except for my creator
who continually resurrects me.

shalom.