I

Torn bruised
Broken abused
Terrible thrown
Feeling alone
Beauty awaiting
Beauty fading
Tired restless
Desiring goodness
Slipping further
They're breathing murder
Quickly undone
Memories come
...
I came
I saw
I splattered
I came
I saw
I shattered
I came
I saw
I collapsed
I came
I became
Ash

Untitled 3

I've never been the patient kind
Pierced...
Head over feet too fast
Perhaps
What did I do to deserve this distance?
What did I say?
What can I say to dismiss this silence?
Yet I wait
As one waits for the bearer of bad news
I pray that it's not
I've been hurt so many times before
So I'm not in need of anymore
Save me from wondering
I just need honesty
The truth is worth it in the end
Your silence isn't soothing
I try not to let it bother me
Help me to wait on You

Black Balloon

Here she lies- a pool of nothingness. Eyes hollow abysses. Moths have eaten away the carrion. Blood streams from placid veins. Checking lost vital signs. Destination nowhere. She remembered the house of cards she built up to block the pain. Shallow. Hollow. Swallow. These walls could easily blackmail. Too easily. A bundle of fear. The taxi cab driver when she wanted to get out at Market. Tick tock went the clock of doom. She waited, but not for this. Her hands let go, bloody. Freefalling. His touch could have warmed her. He hadn't come. Her heart dead. Silent dread. Ghosts haunt, sadly. Untamed emotion. Distraught. Untaught. Chilling whispers. Sealed demise. Alone.

Waiting in Silence

Take this fright
Take my might
Break my will
Hold me still
Waiting in silence for answers
Silence for answers
Amid this darkness
Do I see Your light
As I am searching for answers?
Stumbling in the dark
Where's the switch
From chaos to trust
From uncertainty back to love
From down below to up above
Rough and tumble
That's the way it is
But not the way it has to be
Not the way You're showing me
So soon...
Fade away into the unknown
That's when I know that faith has come
Your love will make my fear undone
Your arms my back brace
Holding me together now
Holding me so I'm not lonely now
Helping me continue this race
The fire's burning, but I'm afraid to burn
Afraid to yearn
For more than I'm capable of
But then there's this love
My soul overtaken
My strength shaken
Only to be replaced by You
My fears to be faced by You
Staring into this unknown
Your love for me has always been shown
Whether I know it or not
Whether I'm aware of it...
Waiting in silence for answers from You
Waiting in silence for answers from You
This waiting is better than struggling on my own
Better than calling the shots
Better than trying to be what I'm not
Falling farther into You
Falling closer to the truth
That I'll find answers
As I'm waiting in silence
Learning this patience
Closing this distance
As I'm waiting in silence
For answers from You

Confessions

This to say the things too hard to say...


It's been almost six years. That's a long time, I know. But there are some things I needed to get off my chest and out of my mind if I have any chance of getting to a state of stability. I feel I can get this out on here with the knowledge that the chance of you reading this is slim to none. That gives me comfort in one sense, and agony in another. Here are things I have been dying to say but have never been able to, some by no fault of my own, and many by complete fault of my own. So anyway, here goes...

For the last six years (I can round up, since it has almost been that long), I have been carrying around a terrible weight. I have often felt like Atlas, believing if only I could get to a point where I could know that you had forgiven me all my wrongdoing, I would be okay. Little did I know, all this long time, that I also need to forgive myself. I have been fighting an invisible fight, a fight between what I know to be true now, and what could have been. I have been trying to reconnect in a way in hopes that I would know, without a doubt, that despite all the hurt and pain I have caused you, you had found a way or means to forgive me. I felt I needed to know that you had forgiven me for breaking your heart, for not trutsting you, for putting too much pressure and too high of expectation on you. That you had forgiven me for seemingly getting over you too quickly, which was not the case. Six years later, perhaps, I am still not quite at that point. People can do very, very stupid things and make the most irrational decisions when they are in a state of confusion and brokenness. Instead of letting God heal the broken parts, I screwed everything up and am positive I only caused you more pain. I am sorry for not giving you the chance you so rightly deserved. I am sorry for not letting you come that weekend when you asked me. I am sorry for pushing you away. And I am sorry for not telling you the truth that day at Starbucks. I would never had wanted to talk to me again either. I am glad that you came, even if I left with a heart so broken I thought it would never mend. I deserved every word spoken in anger and bitterness and I deserved that empty feeling I got when your truck hightailed it out of the parking lot as hot tears streamed down my face. I deserved it all. In truth, I did ask you there because I did want you back. I was too prideful and scared to say it, and I wasn't sure it would have mattered anyway. But I was just too scared to even take the risk. I had always prided myself on the fact that I knew exactly what I wanted in life. But I didn't. I thought I was brave and knew how to handle things, but have spent years figuring out that I don't really know what I want. I knew I wanted you, but I had blown my chance of that ever happening. Yes, that was the real reason I wanted to see you. The bitterness in your voice told me that was never going to be a possibility. I don't know what all you heard. I always wanted to at least be your friend, but deep inside I knew I could probably never be happy being just your friend. I am sorry for not being honest with you. I tried to reconnect after that, for years, wondering if you would ever be able to talk to me again. I missed listening to you, I missed your opinion on things, your gentle way of letting me know it would all be okay. Looking back, those two and a half years have always been the best years of my life, not because they were easy, but because I had someone to lean on. But in turn, I crushed you. I didn't know how to navigate things, didn't know how to rectify things or make things better. I still don't. I have regrets, the number one regret being the fact that I didn't let you come that weekend. That I finalzed things without knowing what I was doing or what consequences I would face. For three days, the tears didn't stop. And for six years, the heartache remains, either because I have not forgiven myself or I am incapable of an explanation. I have learned that I analyze too much. I wish nothing but the best for you. I want you to be happy, to follow what God wants for you, to have love that won't be confusing or harmful to you. I wish every good thing for you and am deeply sorry I hurt you and disappointed you. You did nothing wrong. You were always a wonderful person and I believe you still are. So many things left unsaid, I suppose words will come at the right time. I am sorry for all the tragedy you have experienced and pray you still have hope to hold onto. Forgive me my antics and confusion. I am still a work in progress and have a lot to learn.

Untitled 2

In memories now
You are like a phantom
Haunting my dreams
Haunting my awake times
Whispering in my ear
Replaying past lines that only make me writhe in agony
"Do you remember me?"
I can't escape it
Words are just too powerful
And no one ever told me
Sealed, stamped, bullet
Lodged into my memory
For all eternity
A phantom
A ghost
Whispering away in my dreams
So surreal it seems

Silence, The Chosen, and other mysteries

I just finished reading Chaim Potok's The Chosen for the second time. I love this story. Wait, no... love is an understatement. I remember reading it my sophomore year of high school in Mr. Lizza's class and falling in love with it then, with the intricacies of relationship, and the mystery of seemingly forbidden friendship. But I seemed to have forgotten it until recently. My discovery of Matisyahu led me to remember this treasure.
I picked it up at Borders while Christmas shopping and couldn't wait to get home and dive into it once again. My reading time turned into 11 p.m. to whenever. Sometimes I would read one chapter, other days I would read four. I always left off at a point that would leave me thinking for a long time. Every word in this book is drenched with emotion. I could absolutely feel what Reuven and Danny were feeling. I was completely absorbed and wished that the characters were real people. They were so real to me.
When I got to the last book (the book is divided into 3 separate books depending on the time period), the quote read, "A word is worth one coin;silence is worth two." A quote from the Talmud. I read chapter 18, the final chapter, listening to one song- "Silence" by Matisyahu. It was so fitting. I repeated it numerous times on my ipod. It was the perfect soundtrack for that exact chapter, the moments in which the agonizing silence between Danny and Reb Saunders is finally broken and Danny is finally free of the burden of his family dynasty obligation. Through each word, each phoneme, my heart broke with each character and I strove to understand. Tears rolled down my face as Reb Saunders spoke to his son through Reuven, as he explained his reasons for raising his son in painful silence so that he would learn compassion, so that he would learn to have a soul. It was the most gutwrenching, intimate, beautifully written dialogue. I wondered throughout the book if I was more like Reuven or more like Danny. I found so many ways to identify with them both. And as Matisyahu sang a broken"Your silence kills me/I wouldn't have it any other way/Is it wrong to think you might speak to me/You might speak, would it be words and what would you say/What would you say/It's so heavy/A heavy price to pay/Your silence," I couldn't help but picture Danny, his eyes moist with tears, his body shaking, pleading in the silence he had grown so accustomed to. There was a distinct parallel I found, and it shocked me.
When I got to the last word of the last page, I felt saddened and empty as it ended. I recently learned that Potok had written a sequel, The Promise, which I can't wait to get my hands on and discover.
The story made me think hard about everything. Had I ever had a friendship so costly and so cherished? No. Could I ever study so hard, be so devoted to an idea? Could I endure silence? Could I hear it and understand?
The last six years have been difficult for me in the sense that I cannot seem to sit in silence. I tried for the first time in years last night to let the silence speak to me, to hear the cries that go unheard, to understand myself. I sat there with tears rolling down my face, aching to discover and understand. I understand how valuable it is. I must get to a point where I can get there, where I can train myself to listen, sit still and understand. Thank you Reuven and Danny, and thank you Chaim Potok, for allowing me to discover and begin to understand.