He Always Takes Me Back

Failure.
The word that comes to mind when i think of my dedication to the Lord.
Wreck.
The word that comes to mind when i think about my life, every time i lose my dedication.
Entitled.
How the world has taught me to see myself.

Over and over and over again i fail the one who died for me.
Over and over and over again i get into these power struggles with the one who created me. 
Over and over and over again i see myself as most important and see every blessing in my life as deserved.
I hate myself for it, but somehow God loves me just the same. I really cant grasp it, because if i were him id be so sick of me... But somehow he sticks with me and gives little feeble broken me chance after chance. He gives me hope. Its crazy, having a God who always takes me back, no matter what ive done. Hallelujah, Praise him!

Rain Empowers

I watched a butterfly today,
her wings flipped and fluttered
to dry the dampened dew from
clogging what were her means
of escape, her wings of chance,
her future, laid bare and brutalized.

I love sudden downpours the best,
blue skies turned gray in surprise
with little time to hide before droplets
of heaven’s tears consume the earth,
seeping into cracks and crevices;
to fill the drying land with tides of change.

Floods consume the all-too-thirsty,
thrust themselves into burning fields
and soon abandoned houses; developments
caught in mud slide paths, with nothing
left but filth and grime, only to chase
the pure who’ve left alive.

The rain seems to follow tragedy,
spit upon the homeless and forgotten
with cackles and laughs to illuminate
the sky in thunder, rumbling reminders
of our vulnerability, easily ruined
in lakes too deep and waves too strong.

For rain is seen as horror, drowning
children lost beneath the puddles in
graveyards built too level and paved
too narrow with shallow graves to
try and hide the bodies, longing
for the sunshine just as we do.

I live beneath the drops that fall from
clouds, too heavy to float another inch;
I live like grass and plants and weeds,
turned brown from drought and envy
underwater plants; I live for puddled pools,
riddled with ringlet raindrops waves,

for just as the earth, I crack without the rain.

The rain empowers me in the same ways that sad songs and black and white movies and dark colors do. The gloomy aspects of those things make everything else seem just that much brighter.

Death Of YOLO

Side Effects

the first lie i
told was that i
was fine and
then it was just
a dot on my
windshield, i
could keep that one
straight, always;

the latest lie
is that i am
completely moved on
from someone i met in
the sun;

no one ever told me
that lying leaves
a sugary taste in your
mouth and reminds
you what you’ve done

no one ever said that
lying is an old friend that
you see again and
wish desperately to
approach but can’t
because of the crowd;

no one ever mentioned
that lying is like smiling
for the first time;

no one said
i’d fall half in love
with it