Perspective in a pinch,
what would you see?
The rambling girl,
or the messiah I claimed to be.
Step inside my mind,
while I step outside.
Stories about how I broke-
a divine gesture,
a sacred whisper.
No hints to this secret,
only injury to memory.
The miracle of medicine,
the pills I swallow save
and kill me many ways.
What can I do?
How can I cope?
Say goodbye to a clear mind,
and move on.
I want to make you understand,
to make you question,
to inspire,
to be...
A light in the dark,
a spark,
the illuminated lightbulb above your head.
An idea,
a new beginning,
hope,
logic,
a new way of thinking.
Carefree,
a walk in the park,
a fresh start.
A clean slate,
a new state of mind,
a sight to the blind,
a sound to the deaf.
If only I could be.
Frequently I see my life
flicker before my eyes.
I can't seem to find a phase,
a place in the past to call a stage.
I realize, today and yesterday
are the only two stages I've been through in life.
The moment, the present, and the past,
have been both harsh and helpful.
How can I? How could I make myself more clear?
I'm swimming, barely breathing, coming up for air.
I take it in, let it go, take it in, let go of the past,
and at times- everyone in it.
Dead or alive,
I honor the memory of melancholy or peace.
It seems I'm secretly sad
-thinking of what I miss-
forever mourning memories,
acceptable or atrocious.
Trapped in the moment
unable to travel back through time,
or forward to the future.
Hands deep into the fabric of my mindset,
I pick up two pieces and feed them through.
I sat in front of my machine,
expecting myself to improve the world.
Focused on nothing other than
the threads of time connecting us.
What time is it?
What day is it?
I don't even know.
Threads, torn.
I keep tossing scraps to the side
and sewing my spirit into everything.
Slow, I start to unravel.
My well-being becomes unbound
scraps of fabric spread across the floor.
Thinking
-anything the world needs-
I have it.
Nothing's on my mind,
an existential problem.
I've come to the conclusion,
division is inevitable...
Sad.
Politics appear to worm their way into everything.
How do I explain personal choice,
a love of self?
Everyone only tries to do what's best
for the love of self, then everyone else.
Understanding humanity is hard for some
-but I understand the love of self.
Being kind to everyone else is problematic for most,
but I find myself caving in to respect.
Instead of being problematic,
I find myself silent.
Robbed of my voice. . .
Speechless at the sounds of so much disrespect,
and how do I cope?
I shut myself out of these four walls,
and watch the real world keep moving.
The question is, am I moving with it?
I don't know who God is,
no matter how much I try.
I don't know of heaven or hell,
only earth.
My place is not to judge
a heathen or a believer.
As much as I try to understand what's beyond my reach,
my reach only extends to my fingertips.
Oh, how I'd love to tell you
I know each answer.
I only have opinions on the matter,
many questions of my own.
Some about suffering,
some about emptiness,
many about how to overcome your ailments.
So, I sit and pray for some answers,
but my prayers turn out to be deep sighs for humanity.
So much I can't understand,
I can't find the words to express my gratefulness,
or my hopes for humankind.
I get up off my knees and understand,
everything is out of my control.
I hear everything is in God's hands,
bothersome to believe.
I don't believe God acts this way,
I believe freewill kills His control.
Minuscule miracles
catch our eyes each day,
keep us moving.
No questions,
struggles,
operating order,
and we're happy.
Just getting by,
just drifting,
mini miracles make you.
You shut the door
on a predestined fate,
exceeded expectations.
There's the small matter
of presumptions,
no matter at all.
You weren't born in bounty,
but you earned it.
Faith is the freedom to believe
in something or someone,
anyone or anything.
Trust takes a leap of faith,
confide in who you can.
Pride pulls you down to earth,
or sends you skyrocketing
into outer space.
The spirit of a thriving character is courageous.
Don't let your weakness kill your spirit,
let your strength keep you confident.
Be brave, without worry,
let your intuition lead the way.
Hope comes in many forms
-a spark, a firefly.
A small something to light up your life,
to keep you occupied in troubled times.
Hope does not wander aimless,
it targets those at risk of losing faith.
It pulls you out of misery
in the most miraculous ways.
Hope has a way of making life okay.
On occasion, we have to
surrender to our circumstance
and give up with grace.
Admit defeat,
heal your broken heart,
new beginnings.
You have the choice
to put the past behind you.
The choice to empty your picture frames
and put new memories inside.
Everyone in this world idles lost,
sifting through what to keep,
and what to toss.
What will you miss?
What can you buy brand new?
What should be tossed to the trash?
Some objects stay missing forevermore,
some objects are lessons learned.
Some lessons are meant to pass
on to the next student.