Dear God

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Dear God.
Why am I crying tonight?
I thought I was happy
I am happy.

So why am I crying?

I guess the happiness overflowed
And I am empty again

But…
Why am I crying?

See God,
My life isn’t perfect
But it’s definitely good.
I am supposed to be happy.
But somedays
The dark cloud is closer.
The sun.
Oh the sun,
It shines so bright.
Its rays are so warm
But I don’t feel them.

Dear God.
You told me
That the light shines
On in the darkness
And that the
Dark shall never overwhelm the light.
But tell me, God.
Why can’t I find the light switch?
Did the bulb blow?
Oh God.

Some people told me that,
We are glow sticks.
We gotta break to shine,
But how many times can I bend,
Before I shatter completely?

Dear God.
I do not wanna say
That I cannot carry my cross
But oh, dear God,
I need a Joseph
On the way to Calvary,
Because I have fallen too many times.

Oh, dear God.
Everything seems to be building up
And yet falling.
Oh God. Oh, dear God.

I am supposed to be happy.
So, why aren’t I?

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Dear You

 

Dear you.
Guess what?
The box you crafted
Out of the projection
Of your inadequacy
Does not fit my proportions.

I am too tall
For your puny mind
To fathom.
I am a sky scraper and you
You are an anthill,
Crushed to dust,
By people’s feet as they
Sweep over your insignificance,
You rebuild on shame and insecurity
And yet you expect me to shrink?

How funny.
Because you see, I am a mountain,
I rise high and above.
I am an unascendable fortress
Firm in the roots of the earth,
Three dimensional
The reflection of a Creator
Who took extra care on me.
But you. You are a grass plain.
Flat and uninspiring,
The trampled upon,
Suffering the underfoot of giants
As the walk past,
You are my door mat.

I am volcano,
Fierce and proud,
When I wake,
The whole earth tremors at my presence.
But you are just a kettle of boiling water,
The fire lit stove,
Easily put out.

You think that you can fit me
Inside your pocket,
But I am far above and beyond
Who you believe I am.
I do not fit in your palm,
I do not fit in your life,
And I most certainly do no
Fit in your mind.

The Distance, The Tears and The Lack Of Resolve

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Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

When we fight
It feels like there is a weight
Sitting on my chest,
Restricting my movements
Making me go slower
And slower
And slower.

When we fight
It feels like someone is gripping
My heart,
And squeezing it tight,
Making it beat fainter
And fainter
And fainter

It feels like someone stole my breath
And is constricting my air way, and it’s
Painful
So painful
Oh so very painful.

It feels like someone took our spark and snuffed it under his shoe.

It feels like you are your own person.
And I don’t belong to you.

DEATH SPEAKS IN CAPITAL LETTERS

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Death is passing by,
On a journey
That had a destination
Unknown to us

But death does not walk alone

Death must have a travelling companion.

Death talks in capital letters
And death specifically calls my name.

Her voice is sweet
And seductive
She’s offers a solution.
To problems I feel
I do not have
But the pain is more than alive
Taunting death,
Looking her straight in the eye

Death beckons with
A beautiful hand
Holding it out to me
Calmly but impatiently

She speaks in capital letters

Too Quiet and Way Too Far Away – The Mercury Tapes

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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I want love.
That explosions in your tummy
Love.
That burn your house down after we argue love
And make out in
Lonely parking lots.
I wanna light fires with you
Scream curses at the lightning
In the midst of the storm.
I want to unchain myself
Run free and tumble
Down hills.
I want explosions in my brain,
Sparks in my heart.
I want raw love

I’m just kidding.

I want the kind of love
Where I can hold your hand
And know that
My life is falling into place love
I want the kind of love where
I can trust you without fear
And lose my shell
Completely.

I want the love that
Takes a sledgehammer
And smashes down the concrete wall
I’d systematically
Put up around my heart
And around my brain

I want love where
You’re pulling me
Out of the rain
And helping me get dry.

But I am still standing in the rain.

Lighting flashes before my eyes
Illuminates
The sadness that I am.

My heart is still cold,
And ashes are scattered
In the fire place,

I want that love.

Doubts – The Mercury Tapes

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Photo by Diz Play on Unsplash

I have a dark cloud
That follows me
Some days,
I’m a ray of pure
Sunshine
Spreading light, love peace and happiness
But sometimes,
The “what ifs” are louder
Than the truth.

Sometimes doubt
Takes a perch on my shoulder
And whispers seductively
Into my ears.

Sometimes fear
Holds my hand
And because
I am afraid of solitude
I don’t ask it to let go.

Sometimes I am a downer
And sometimes I’m a kite.

Sometimes I am the sky
And sometimes I am the rain cloud.

Most times,
I’m just quietly me

The Mercury Tapes – Conceptualizing

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I am living on borrowed time

Hush, smoke your cigarette, grind it to dust and ash
and lets live here,
in the moment.
Life doesn’t begin, reminiscing on the death it has not experienced;
life doesn’t begin on a low.
so take your hat off, lay your aching back on the warm sand.

Now look at me.

There is a whole world out there
and there is everything going on between us.
I dont want to think about the future
because, it may never come.
Please don’t mention forever because I might have found it in your eyes.

I don’t know
whats going to happen
See, I am living on borrowed time.

Today will fade and next week will steal our time away.
Lay with me.
Press your body against mine.
be with me.
i know its impossible
but lets grab a hold of time

The Longest Three Minutes

“Hello…?” He says uncertainly, almost as if he was sure I wouldn’t pick up.

He sighs relieved that I answer, happily.

“I…I miss you.” I hear myself begin to say, but I catch myself in time. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

From the other end of the line I hear a click-scratch. He’s lit a cigarette. He’s nervous. I listen to him inhale, and remember the many times he’d inhale as I lay next to him, our fingers intertwining. The line goes quiet for some time. I almost think he’s hung up. Eventually he exhales loudly.

“I found your notebook.” He says quietly.

I find myself wiping tears from my eyes and forcing my mouth into a macabre smile. “Which one?” I try sound nonchalant. But I know which one.

“I think it was a diary” he admits. He read, I’m sure of it.

“Oh.” My voice is flat. “That one.”

“I’m sorry”. He says. I know he isn’t sorry for reading the notebook. He’s sorry because of what he read. Emotions overwhelm me and I feel myself all choked up.

” I have to go now” I say, my voice is strangled and hoarse. I fumble with my phone, blinded by tears. As I hang up, I hear him whisper, “What will I do without​ you?”

Ode To My Lover: Him and Her

 

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Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

There’s something about the way
She pouts her lips defiantly
And leaves traces of her kiss
Lingering…
Or maybe it’s the flip of her hair,
As she insists she has no care
For my night time
Escapades,
She only cares for the days
When I belong to her,

But there’s something about the
Quietness
After a maelstrom
Of scarlet red anger
That fades to deep indigo sadness

It’s what we do behind the scenes
When the sheets are remade
And she momentarily puts away
Her pariah’s name
When she isn’t answering
Bottom ended calls at midnight hours

She puts on a personality
That runs deeper than the highest intimacy
She becomes a side to me
That’s better than I’ve ever known.

Maybe its in her innocence
As wet tears cling fiercely
To her eyelashes and she assures me…

Or is it the innocence I robbed?
For some fleeting passion…
A shared breath
A moment that bubbles between two lungs.

Or maybe that’s just fantasy

***
I know it’s unsustainable
I know I am not right,
But it’s more than just
The way he lays
His fingers on me
Or looks into my eyes…and smiles
See, I am enthralled by him
Wholly and Irrevocably.

Maybe it’s the way he talks
Maybe it’s the way he talks to me.

But after a hurricane
That’s coloured rainbows of emotions
I know.

I think it’s funny;
His boys told me I’m all but a
“Booty call”

The ladies call me a hoe
But I know.

I know it’s not right
And that should stop me
But as the rosary entangles in my lingerie
I shed a few tears
That paint my shame
Grey and Unspectacular
Misguided, Ill-advised.

I should know better but I don’t.

Maybe it’s just fantasy

Sonnet by Lachlan Mackinnon

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image by FWallpapers.com, http://www.VETTON.ru

(poem taken from The Jupiter Collisions by Lachlan Mackinnon)

Suppose there was no great creating Word,

That time is infinite. Corollary?

The present moment gives infinity

An end, by coming after it. Absurd

 

Say the beginning of the world occurred

In time and call that moment T,

Everything needed for the world to be

Was, at the point T minus X. Absurd

 

Falling in love’s a paradox like this.

Either it happens like a thunderbolt,

So when it makes our lives make sense, it lies

 

Or we had long been hoping for the kiss

That changed us, and, aware how it would jolt

Our beings, we could suffer no surprise

Nebulous

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Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash 

I almost knew you.
I already knew your name.
I already loved you.

I love curve of your face
The shape of your fingers
I love the softness of your skin

I love you.

But you were taken from me.

I needed you but I couldn’t have you.

I hope that,
When life is better
And we are meant to be

We can meet again.

And then i will

Hold you closer to me
Dearer to me

I still love you.
And I always will.

It Flows and It Ebbs

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Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash 

This the story of what happened.
I lit a match,
It faltered and died
Fell to the ground.
It lit a spark,
That was fanned on flames
And started a wildfire.

You unwittingly
Came to put out the flames,
But you let them rise.
You stood in awe,
It was a tsunami wall
Of everything amalgamated
Into a beautiful disaster.

So we stood together and watched it burn.