I was scared.
Maybe.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Standing in the middle of December
We are reminded that nothing is certain and life is precious.
I witnessesed something tonight.
In fact I stand before it now.
Right here on the corner of King David and Mesa street
Thick smoke clouds fill the air as passers by crowd around in the frigid air.
I took one last look as I walked away
All those flashing lights fell silently behind me
The urgent calls in the night
I don't know who lives there
But I still can't join in on these jokes
I suddenly remembered the ambulance.
It's own sirens screetching down El Indio highway.
Fatal?
I don't know.
I probably never will.
Fire has always been my personal least prefered was to die.
As far as preferences go in dying that is.
And in this moment I thought about God.
Everything He's done for me.
And everything I've done to Him.
This is just one more wake up call
Will I sleep it off like I did the others?
Sleep seems so easy when your tired.
Tired of fighting, of pretending, of hiding.
But this narcolepsy has it's downfalls.
Especially when the dreams stop coming.
"lately I'm not dreaming, so what's the point in sleeping? It's just that at night I've got no where to hide." - Andrew McMahon
Maybe, I'm tired of hiding.
I do need You.
I always have.
I witnessesed something tonight.
In fact I stand before it now.
Right here on the corner of King David and Mesa street
Thick smoke clouds fill the air as passers by crowd around in the frigid air.
I took one last look as I walked away
All those flashing lights fell silently behind me
The urgent calls in the night
I don't know who lives there
But I still can't join in on these jokes
I suddenly remembered the ambulance.
It's own sirens screetching down El Indio highway.
Fatal?
I don't know.
I probably never will.
Fire has always been my personal least prefered was to die.
As far as preferences go in dying that is.
And in this moment I thought about God.
Everything He's done for me.
And everything I've done to Him.
This is just one more wake up call
Will I sleep it off like I did the others?
Sleep seems so easy when your tired.
Tired of fighting, of pretending, of hiding.
But this narcolepsy has it's downfalls.
Especially when the dreams stop coming.
"lately I'm not dreaming, so what's the point in sleeping? It's just that at night I've got no where to hide." - Andrew McMahon
Maybe, I'm tired of hiding.
I do need You.
I always have.
I've come to realize
That I'm not in the least bit charming.
I guess I'll just have to learn to live with that.
I guess I'll just have to learn to live with that.
The Diary of a Bad Day
It's hard to reread these words.
And yet, I still can't bring myself to delete them.
They are my history
And yet, I still can't bring myself to delete them.
They are my history
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Save me.
I said: Save me, I need You.
And He told me: Sometimes The Day includes the night, but The Night never includes the day.
And He told me: Sometimes The Day includes the night, but The Night never includes the day.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monster
I would like to say
That everything is a mess.
That regardless of how things might seem,
They're wrecked
Like the ships on this dark ocean bottom.
But I can't.
I can't bring myself to tell you how much I love you.
Or how much I hate you because of it.
I refuse to be the victim.
But I already am.
You got me once.
Twice.
Three times baby.
Once for every word I won't say to you.
Once for every word you won't hear.
Once for every word neither of us wants to hear.
First, for sport. I suppose.
Then again for how this makes us feel.
Last, for you. And all the selfish things you do.
I am a monster.
I guess that makes you one too.
That everything is a mess.
That regardless of how things might seem,
They're wrecked
Like the ships on this dark ocean bottom.
But I can't.
I can't bring myself to tell you how much I love you.
Or how much I hate you because of it.
I refuse to be the victim.
But I already am.
You got me once.
Twice.
Three times baby.
Once for every word I won't say to you.
Once for every word you won't hear.
Once for every word neither of us wants to hear.
First, for sport. I suppose.
Then again for how this makes us feel.
Last, for you. And all the selfish things you do.
I am a monster.
I guess that makes you one too.
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