Let Him be your peace

Violent beatings of your heart drive your blood pressure upward. The pace of your breathing increases, and it seems this time you will drown for sure. And then... strange how life jackets are found in the form of empty syrofoam cups and half-submerged crates full of 500 thread-count linen sheets.

Let not your heart be troubled middle-aged one. He will carry you when you are unable to walk, just as he did when you were young.

Believe in what you once renounced. Hold tight to lost dreams and make them real again.

You have fought. You have given up. You have found yourself in this in-between, this unsure, waste-filled place. But still, giving up is not an option. Giving up happens far too often, and you are unwilling, UNWILLING to end up like they did. This thing it weighs on you, it beats your soul down, it holds your heart hostage, and you are unable to find yourself, among the disdainful, among the hateful, among the dead.

Beat fast heart, feel alive. You will only live once, you will only feel alive if you wish it into reality. Only you can make this change, only you can fight against the judgment of others and say eff them. I will be who I will be and that is what I will be, regardless.

You love and you love hard. You cry and you hide it. You will stay this way, and you will feel ashamed. Why does your heart have to be so shadowed-over, so hidden, so heartless. When will you face Him? When will you face them? When will you say what you really feel? When will you finally call him near and tell him all the things that you really want to tell him?

You doubt so many things; you believe in so many more. You hurt, you hurt, and you never tell a soul. You fool.

And as you read words you don’t understand, as you fight this battle hand-to-hand, as you see past this public demand for more than you planned to give, you discover more of yourself. You discover that you are so much weaker than you thought; you are so much stronger than you ought to be in some regards, just all the wrong ones. Stubborn soul, for some reason you can never find this balance. For some reason you will never have this solace. Wander, wander far. Never return, never descansar.

It's you, just you.

Broken, it’s effortless- beyond the hope of recognition, beyond the scope of comprehension. You take it and it gives. You break it and it bends, and still takes shape, and still makes waste. And if all this was left up to you, you would walk away forever. You would never return. This feeling of hopeful asperation, it remains in the corner of a soul that is loved, and you don’t even have that. You can’t even see past the past. It is ever before you. Always following, reminding, tripping you up.

And if this is what you dreamed of being when you were young, then you dreamed too small.

You didn’t challenge the rules like you said you would. You didn’t make fake the towers of conceit, the lies that defeat, the place of unbroken hate.
You claim.
You claim.
You lie.
You lie.
But this has been put in place and still you aren’t sure you believe it, and still you wish you were stronger, but you are not. You are a face that sheds tears unseen, that turns away from friendship because you are too afraid to lend yourself to something that isn’t you, because you can’t be sure of keeping it whole. It depends too much on them. You can’t see past yourself, you refuse to let people help, you can’t answer all the questions or didn’t you know that? You can’t save face this time. They can see right through you. They told you last night. Instead of change, you decided to hide even further away. You will remain here in this place. And you will be forgotten, because you can’t be remembered for something you weren’t. You can’t be sheltered from all hurt, but you try your damnest. And you fight the thing that gives you life. You defeat yourself. You do it, no one else. No blaming anyone. It’s you, just you.

Thoughts of futile endeavors begun with empty words.

They never carried you far before; what makes you think they will now? Taking and giving never seemed this hard; yet every time you reach out to grab, your fingers don’t function how you wish they would. Instead of gently picking the love from the palm of his hand, you smack it down- spilled on the ground, empty and wasted.

What has this become, this mentality? You can’t seem to let it go, and you won’t even try, you stubborn soul. You feign kindness and love, but least love yourself. You say that isn’t the case, but we know the truth. We know.

You are so unwilling, and I am tired of trying to make you care. Stay still, breathless; I don’t care. Go far from this place and never return; I don’t care. Tear down these bridges of beautiful memories; I don’t care. But finally be what you claimed you would become, because I do care.

“I’ve faced the same and walked out alive,” you heard her whisper underneath propped-up sheets, a flimsy tent that sags in the middle, a slight representation of your soul, seemingly strong but able to be blown into nothingness if a strong-enough wind presents itself.

Take it for what it isn’t.
Leave it for what it is.
Break the broken until nothing remains.
Grieve for what you cannot love anymore.
Finally be what you claimed you would become, because I do care.

Il tempo ha arrivato per costruire i muri tutt'intorno il mio cuore.

I hate this feeling that I get when I think of you. This feeling of loss, of emptiness because you aren’t here. And I thought I was doing so well, far from you, I didn’t have to bring your name up in conversation. But still you seem to find me, to seek me out, when the whole time I just want to forget you. I want to forget you because I love you in the worst way possible, and even typing these words makes my heart hurt all over again. I can’t seem to escape you, and I can’t ever have you. So now I sit in helpless silence once again fighting back these feeling that spawned from a nearly lost hope. Sadly this hope can never find fulfillment, and I will remain here, alone, without you. Some things just aren’t worth having if the price you pay is losing everything else.

Ti ho perso, e di te non parlero' mai.

Oh dear friend, gentle heart.

I see the light of your soul reflected in your kindness-filled eyes. How strange. Because I could have sworn my eyesight for this sort of thing had faded over the past few years leaving me unable to see the beauty in the unspoken well-concealed depths of a person. (Or maybe I just didn’t look hard enough.) My initial cynicism keeps me at bay from looking deeper, past the inherent yet unmerited thoughts that my mind immediately constructs. How inconclusively shallow of me. How hypocritical. Yet, my final mental conclusions don’t rest in these unfruitful assumptions that are ultimately dismissed for their intrinsic shallowness. But still, I cannot cease their production. Why doesn’t my mind have a one-touch sleep mode? Why is trusting people so difficult for me?

I sat and listened. I sat and became someone else. I revisited the day their heart broke. I revisited their moment of betrayal. I felt their pain and after quite a while, they finally arrived- gentle drops streaming down sun-touched cheeks. Is it sad that I have to live these moments of relief-filled release vicariously? Am I unable feel this without them? Last time my heart felt this way was about 2 years ago. And still I had their aid. And still I feel this from a distance. This issue of heart breaking, of the aching loss of such a beautiful love- I don’t know what it is like outside of this unrealistic “reality” that I have self-constructed. But realistically, I feel dead inside.

Shade-filled apple trees lined the side of the road. It was as if they gently held shade in their boughs just for me. I would like to think that nature would be this kind. I would like to think that mankind would be equally considerate.

I was feeling a little lonely today, so I surrounded myself with the beehive of humanity. The hundreds of other souls constantly moving about attempting to reach their final destination was enough to distract my heart from feeling inconsolably isolated. I don’t feel lonely very often, but when I do the compression of a trash compactor feels non-existent in comparison.

I run ahead blindfolded, and I finally see what I was meant to see.

Take away these thoughts of insolent arrogance. Take away the broken pieces that currently hang off me. I don’t want to drag them along anymore. I want to fly.

I want to believe without seeing all of the time. It is getting harder as I grow older. I don’t like that so much.

I’m driven by my emotions more than I would like to admit. I realize it, and still I deny it. I don’t want to be this vulnerable thing that I really am. I don’t want them to see it, but I haven’t figured out exactly why. What is this that is driving me? This horrid pride keeps me bound.

After it all, I sigh deep and can do nothing but smile, because that is where my heart is- in a constant state of smile. Yes, even when I’m sad, it smiles back at me. When I am in my foulest of moods and don’t want it to, still it smiles back. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I am so thankful for that.

I am reaping what I sow- a life of non-commitment. When will you dare to change?
When will you dare utter someone else’s name the way you wish they uttered yours?
When will you chance it, you coward, you fraud.

And still I spur myself forward wishing to be more than I am.

It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s alright.

This is one of the hardest things I have ever faced. And now that I am in the midst of it, it seems overwhelmingly difficult- unable to be overcome. But this lie that creeps up is just that. A lie. A misstep. A confusing concoction of unequivocal falsehood. And still I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it.

These thoughts are far to outreaching, untamable. I wish only to sit with a blank expression on my face until I am able to find the time to retrace this path that has evidently led to nowhere- a vast place of heartache and lost things. Lost feelings. Lost desires. Lost loves. And still I wish only to lose more. To lose these self- constructed walls that block me. Losing personal standards would be much easier. But where would that get me? Would I regret it like I think I would? Or would I see it simply as a lesson learned after all is said and done? I think I would see it as something that I have finally faced and walked through; and even if I come out battered, I would know that I did it. I walked through and I am not dead.

This sheltered mentality is suffocating me. Is this what He meant for me to do? How He meant for me to live? It is hard to think the answer would actually be yes.
Am I allowed to apologize now in advance for something I may do in the future? They say no, but still I consider it. Apparently, I am worse than they think I am. But, my God, I am only human.

This end is unforeseeable.



“A life perfect ain’t perfect if you don’t know what the struggle’s for. Falling down ain’t falling down if you don’t cry when you hit the floor. It’s called the past, cause I’m getting past and I ain’t nothing like I was before. You ought to see me now. Yes I was burned, but I’ve called it a lesson learned. Mistake overturned so I’ve called it a lesson learned. My soul has returned so I’ve called it a lesson learned. “ A.Keys.

This is too much to handle calmly.

You asked me to travel a far distance with you in order to see your current better half. I lied and said I couldn’t. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just wasn’t able.

I didn‘t eat much today. I felt sick to my stomach most of the day whenever I thought about those questions that I asked you, the words I should not have said. I semi-talked to you about it, because you wanted to know. I didn’t want to tell you, so I didn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I did, because I think I might have tried. But for now, I just want to sleep.

I think it will be quite a while until I figure this one out- to tell, not to tell; to hurt, not to hurt; to be rejected, to not be rejected. The question looming over my head brings unbelievable heartache. The impending result of action ensures permanent repercussions. So much for a rock and a hard place. That would have been easy. GAH.

I don’t believe like I used to, and maybe this is bad. I would say I am sorry, but I don’t know if I should. I wonder if God stops loving people? And sure they say he doesn’t, but I feel like in this case his hand may be hovering over the book of life, at the ready, prepared to cross out my name. I probably shouldn’t say such things, but this is what my head is thinking now, so I write it.

I feel unbelievably alone, with absolutely no one. Surely He never faced this hardship. So does He understand? Really, I need to meet with Him for a bit. Maybe then He will explain why this sort of thing happens. Why I am the one left in this situation, when I never asked for this? Why? God, why?

It is strange how a song can say everything your heart is feeling.

Love Affair- Copeland

Fell past a cheekbone hill
To a piece of the floor
The hope of the world
in an awkward spill
Oh she'd lie on her bed
and stare into harsh white light
and think that her heart's not right
'Cause love took her hand like a thief
took her heart like a robber
and the feelings that scare her
become her relief
Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want.
Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want.
In a flash a heart is slain
you have to ask in all this pain
Was your heart too soft?
Was your love in vain?
Was your kiss too weak?
Were your eyes too tired?
And much too young to be in love
Much too young to be in love
Just let me run where I want to run
Just let me love who I want.
There are no rules for this love
Just keep your head and don't give up
Like all the fools who play it smart.
Lose your head just for your heart, just for your heart.