I am a grain of dust, forever ensnared in a never-ending windstorm.
I am a lonely teardrop, spiraling endlessly downwards amongst the driving rain.
I am a shadow, choked and smothered by the many other darknesses in this starless world.
I am a cry, a meek plea for help, drowned out by the desperate symphony of torment around me.
I am a single hurt, lost in a screaming sea of pain.
I am a young flower, doomed to fade and wither away.
I am an ocean wave, rising and sinking incessantly until my energy is gone and nothing remains.
I am a helpless child, yearning for his mother’s comforting embrace.
I am a coyote, always singing, always fighting, always alone.
I am a fragile shard of glass, broken and shattered, irreparably crushed.
I am one in seven million, yet…
I am alone.
These are lies.
You are not alone.
You have never been alone.
I have been with you since the day you began.
I have stationed angels at your side, to comfort and protect you, to keep you from harm.
You are my child, and I am your Father.
I will be your comfort.
You need do no more than confide in me.
I am begging you, my beloved, to find me.
To come back to me.
To never leave my side.
You and I once were the same; I created you from nothing, and you added joy to my every day.
Tears of jollity and tears of sadness have accompanied the joy, but I do not complain.
After all, you are human, and you are perfect in an imperfect way.
I gave you free will for a reason.
Had I not, you would never have been strong enough to truly know me and love me.
There comes a time when you must break before you can heal.
Child, my dear, beautiful child, you will never be alone.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Deeper Than Sleep
A thick, endless sleep
Relentlessly lusting
For dominance over
Body and soul
The day had begun
No different than another
When suddenly, swiftly,
Her consciousness was snatched away
“Steady”, the monitor reads
Beeping incessantly
A never-ending promise of
False hopes and lies
Deeply asleep
She fights valiantly
To regain control
To escape her subconscious
The voices of her visitors
Echo worriedly around her
She struggles to answer, but
To no avail
Months pass
The coma persists
And day by day
Her visitors grow fewer
In another month’s time
She is alone in her struggle
The comforting voices of friends
No longer relieve her
Daily survival
A life-or-death battle
Her strength is failing
Hope is nearly gone
June 21, 2015
Six months since the accident
The day the moniter
No longer reads 'Steady'
Relentlessly lusting
For dominance over
Body and soul
The day had begun
No different than another
When suddenly, swiftly,
Her consciousness was snatched away
“Steady”, the monitor reads
Beeping incessantly
A never-ending promise of
False hopes and lies
Deeply asleep
She fights valiantly
To regain control
To escape her subconscious
The voices of her visitors
Echo worriedly around her
She struggles to answer, but
To no avail
Months pass
The coma persists
And day by day
Her visitors grow fewer
In another month’s time
She is alone in her struggle
The comforting voices of friends
No longer relieve her
Daily survival
A life-or-death battle
Her strength is failing
Hope is nearly gone
June 21, 2015
Six months since the accident
The day the moniter
No longer reads 'Steady'
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Leave Me Alone
Had an incident with claustrophobia yesterday. This is basically what I felt and what happened. I'm loving free verse poetry!! I'll probably keep it up for awhile.
Claustrophobia:
The fear of small spaces
Helpless, paralyzed terror
A synonym for me
My heart pounds loudly
Like a frantic bird, caged
I want nothing more
Than to be alone
Someone nudges me
I leap away reflexively
Unspeakable panic
Coursing through my veins
He apologizes, but
The damage is done
My pulse, rapid and throbbing,
Pulses with fear
I squeeze my eyes shut
Trying to hold back the tears
“I am going to die here
Shrouded by darkness”
Suddenly, a light
A few feet ahead
The drill is over
I can breathe again
New life floods through me
With each gulp of oxygen
My terror dissipates to
No more than anxiety
The “someone” who nudged me
Looks over, concerned
“Are you okay?”
There is no answer.
Hours later
The terror is gone
Leaving nothing but
An empty exhaustion
Claustrophobia:
The fear of small spaces
Helpless, paralyzed terror
A synonym for me
My heart pounds loudly
Like a frantic bird, caged
I want nothing more
Than to be alone
Someone nudges me
I leap away reflexively
Unspeakable panic
Coursing through my veins
He apologizes, but
The damage is done
My pulse, rapid and throbbing,
Pulses with fear
I squeeze my eyes shut
Trying to hold back the tears
“I am going to die here
Shrouded by darkness”
Suddenly, a light
A few feet ahead
The drill is over
I can breathe again
New life floods through me
With each gulp of oxygen
My terror dissipates to
No more than anxiety
The “someone” who nudged me
Looks over, concerned
“Are you okay?”
There is no answer.
Hours later
The terror is gone
Leaving nothing but
An empty exhaustion
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Yearning for Rest
Waiting
For dawn’s golden rays
To envelop us in doting warmth
Wishing
That the huntress’s whispering calls
And evil’s seductive nature
Would leave our tired minds alone
Dreaming
For peace, for quiet
For the angry zeal of the world
To go away,
Just for a moment
Hoping
That someday
Life will be calm
That tranquility will be more than just a dream
Wafting tauntingly ahead
Never within reach
Knowing
The world will never be so kind……
Except
For when the Potter’s gentle hands
Are shaping it
Into a lovely and intricate bowl
That will soon hold the Water of Life
Turning
The dirty peasants of the world
Into the salt of the earth
I love poetry…
For dawn’s golden rays
To envelop us in doting warmth
Wishing
That the huntress’s whispering calls
And evil’s seductive nature
Would leave our tired minds alone
Dreaming
For peace, for quiet
For the angry zeal of the world
To go away,
Just for a moment
Hoping
That someday
Life will be calm
That tranquility will be more than just a dream
Wafting tauntingly ahead
Never within reach
Knowing
The world will never be so kind……
Except
For when the Potter’s gentle hands
Are shaping it
Into a lovely and intricate bowl
That will soon hold the Water of Life
Turning
The dirty peasants of the world
Into the salt of the earth
I love poetry…
Plea for Sanctity
One day
The thunder of the distant stars
Will no longer be so distant
Soon we will speak the language of
Blizzards’ inviting whispers
And the dusky shadow of night
Faith’s limitless mysteries
Will no longer be so mysterious
Our lives will be spent
Discovering
More and more of
God’s incredible world
On that day
Whether or not it’s centuries
In the future
The lion and the lamb
Will lie together, without concern,
In harmony
I lie in my bed
Staring blankly at the ceiling
Wondering, hoping
That the eternal paradise
Will come soon
“Please…”
But until that day
We must watch as evil unfolds
In the dreary world around us
And can only hope
The day of salvation
Will
Come
Soon…
I've been reading a lot of wonderful poetry, and I wanted to try my hand at it. Turns out it's totally relaxing, meditative even. There wasn't much of a base for this particular one, the pattern is kind of abstract…though, I did try to follow a vague system.
Did anyone like it? I've never done actual poetry before, so this is completely new to me. Leave a comment if you can, please!!
The thunder of the distant stars
Will no longer be so distant
Soon we will speak the language of
Blizzards’ inviting whispers
And the dusky shadow of night
Faith’s limitless mysteries
Will no longer be so mysterious
Our lives will be spent
Discovering
More and more of
God’s incredible world
On that day
Whether or not it’s centuries
In the future
The lion and the lamb
Will lie together, without concern,
In harmony
I lie in my bed
Staring blankly at the ceiling
Wondering, hoping
That the eternal paradise
Will come soon
“Please…”
But until that day
We must watch as evil unfolds
In the dreary world around us
And can only hope
The day of salvation
Will
Come
Soon…
I've been reading a lot of wonderful poetry, and I wanted to try my hand at it. Turns out it's totally relaxing, meditative even. There wasn't much of a base for this particular one, the pattern is kind of abstract…though, I did try to follow a vague system.
Did anyone like it? I've never done actual poetry before, so this is completely new to me. Leave a comment if you can, please!!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
No Longer Bound
Marcie cried. She cried like she had never before, releasing all her pent-up emotions and petty hopes in the salty droplets. Never had someone been as important to her as Matthew, and he had just turned her away without a second glance, even after hearing her devout confession.
Marcie had known she was ugly her whole life. How could she deny it, with her splotchy, multicolored face and wall-eyedness? Still, she had somehow convinced herself that Matthew, this pinnacle of beauty who had stolen her heart, would overlooked her crossed eyes and her spotted face. She had been so swept up in his looks that she had overestimated his good traits.
I deserve this. Vile voices hissed in her mind, making her grimace. ‘I’ll die alone and lonely. Who could love a deformed hag like me?’
She shook as thoughts to despondent to be her own flooded her mind, but she was too weak from disappointment to fend them off. The defamations flowed through her as steadily as her tears flowed down her face, prodding tender areas and reopening old wounds.
Ugly.
Deformed.
Unloved.
Alone.
The words running through her mind stung, but their aim was true. Marcie was left defenseless as jibes filled her thoughts and tore at her soul.
Bland.
“No.
Rejected.
“Stop it.”
Abandoned.
“Shut up!!”
Orphan.
“Please…”
All insecurities were bared by the demons tugging her spirit apart. Tears drizzled steadily down her cheeks, leaving tracks hidden by the splotches on her face.
Dejection and misery evolved into hatred. She pictured her crush’s face, a red sheen blurring her sight, and wished for her revenge. Even her parents’ faces, those of the people who had abandoned her younger self, appeared in her mind, so irate was she.
How could he?? I poured everything I had into that confession. It’s not my fault I can’t see straight!! I didn’t choose to be ugly! How dare he do this to me?!
I wish…I wish he would die!
The last part scared her; she, who would never hurt a fly in her gentleness. What scared her more was that it was true, and that she had to force herself to regret it.
What is happening to me?
All at once, the answer was clear. The air around her reeked of the Devil, and of the absence of her Savior. Closing her eyes in relief, Marcie poured her heart out to her God.
“Jesus, what is happening?! I would never think those thoughts, I know for sure. Is Satan interfering? What does he want? I know I can’t stand up to him on my own, and I can’t know what to do without you. Jesus, please, be my shield! Transform my hate into love for You!”
The difference was immediate. A still, tranquil calm settled over her heart. Marcie sighed gratefully, thankful for relief from the tormenting voices.
Her injured feelings, however, had yet to be repaired. She knew Jesus could patch them if He so wanted, but in order for her to be stronger, she had to participate.
Sliding from her bed to her knees, the girl closed her eyes. “Jesus, You know I placed all my hopes in Matthew. I see my mistake, now. I should have known that no one can be perfect but you. Please, help me forget my hatred for him.” An idea occurred to her; a suggestion found in her devotional book. “And Jesus, forge from this hate a new Love stronger than that of this world. Give me a love for him as my brother in You. With my fragile feelings and soul, I can’t love him for what he did, by myself. But with you, I can cast aside my anger and leave only love. Amen.”
With the last whispered word, Marcie felt a tremendous new freedom, as if a prodigious weight had been lifted from her back. With the freedom came a sort of exhausted energy. Drained from the experience, she clambered onto her bed again and let her Jesus hold her until she fell asleep, safe in the knowledge that she was no longer bound by hate.
……………Really shouldn't be up this late.
Marcie had known she was ugly her whole life. How could she deny it, with her splotchy, multicolored face and wall-eyedness? Still, she had somehow convinced herself that Matthew, this pinnacle of beauty who had stolen her heart, would overlooked her crossed eyes and her spotted face. She had been so swept up in his looks that she had overestimated his good traits.
I deserve this. Vile voices hissed in her mind, making her grimace. ‘I’ll die alone and lonely. Who could love a deformed hag like me?’
She shook as thoughts to despondent to be her own flooded her mind, but she was too weak from disappointment to fend them off. The defamations flowed through her as steadily as her tears flowed down her face, prodding tender areas and reopening old wounds.
Ugly.
Deformed.
Unloved.
Alone.
The words running through her mind stung, but their aim was true. Marcie was left defenseless as jibes filled her thoughts and tore at her soul.
Bland.
“No.
Rejected.
“Stop it.”
Abandoned.
“Shut up!!”
Orphan.
“Please…”
All insecurities were bared by the demons tugging her spirit apart. Tears drizzled steadily down her cheeks, leaving tracks hidden by the splotches on her face.
Dejection and misery evolved into hatred. She pictured her crush’s face, a red sheen blurring her sight, and wished for her revenge. Even her parents’ faces, those of the people who had abandoned her younger self, appeared in her mind, so irate was she.
How could he?? I poured everything I had into that confession. It’s not my fault I can’t see straight!! I didn’t choose to be ugly! How dare he do this to me?!
I wish…I wish he would die!
The last part scared her; she, who would never hurt a fly in her gentleness. What scared her more was that it was true, and that she had to force herself to regret it.
What is happening to me?
All at once, the answer was clear. The air around her reeked of the Devil, and of the absence of her Savior. Closing her eyes in relief, Marcie poured her heart out to her God.
“Jesus, what is happening?! I would never think those thoughts, I know for sure. Is Satan interfering? What does he want? I know I can’t stand up to him on my own, and I can’t know what to do without you. Jesus, please, be my shield! Transform my hate into love for You!”
The difference was immediate. A still, tranquil calm settled over her heart. Marcie sighed gratefully, thankful for relief from the tormenting voices.
Her injured feelings, however, had yet to be repaired. She knew Jesus could patch them if He so wanted, but in order for her to be stronger, she had to participate.
Sliding from her bed to her knees, the girl closed her eyes. “Jesus, You know I placed all my hopes in Matthew. I see my mistake, now. I should have known that no one can be perfect but you. Please, help me forget my hatred for him.” An idea occurred to her; a suggestion found in her devotional book. “And Jesus, forge from this hate a new Love stronger than that of this world. Give me a love for him as my brother in You. With my fragile feelings and soul, I can’t love him for what he did, by myself. But with you, I can cast aside my anger and leave only love. Amen.”
With the last whispered word, Marcie felt a tremendous new freedom, as if a prodigious weight had been lifted from her back. With the freedom came a sort of exhausted energy. Drained from the experience, she clambered onto her bed again and let her Jesus hold her until she fell asleep, safe in the knowledge that she was no longer bound by hate.
……………Really shouldn't be up this late.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Balloon
The sun shone gaily over the cheerful little town, casting a warm, cheery aura over the locals under its warm rays. The deep azure of the sky was unblemished by cloud. Only one orange fleck marred the perfect scene, but it hardly diminished the overall merry disposition.
Orange as dusk’s golden rays, the balloon bobbed contentedly, oblivious to the tainted world in which it existed. The wind played gently at its string, which so recently had been clutched in the hands of a little child, only four years of age. The child had cried out when a particularly strong gust had torn her floating prize from her grasp, but, ignoring her troubled calling, the balloon drifted away into the sky.
No mundane hands chained the balloon to the dreary earth now. Free as a bird in its newfound liberty, it gushed toward the sun in a sudden updraft. Warmth coasted over its rubbery skin as the glowing yellow orb nearly doubled in size.
Miles above the face of the earth, the balloon sailed on a gentle breeze. No harm could reach it there. It was free.
BWAHAHA idk. My mom was reading one of my stories and got upset, saying, "Why don't you ever write anything happy?? All of your stories are so depressing." I said, "What would you suggest I write about?" and she said, "I don't know…write a story about a happy balloon floating through the air!" So I did, and it was incredibly boring. Never gonna do that again.
Orange as dusk’s golden rays, the balloon bobbed contentedly, oblivious to the tainted world in which it existed. The wind played gently at its string, which so recently had been clutched in the hands of a little child, only four years of age. The child had cried out when a particularly strong gust had torn her floating prize from her grasp, but, ignoring her troubled calling, the balloon drifted away into the sky.
No mundane hands chained the balloon to the dreary earth now. Free as a bird in its newfound liberty, it gushed toward the sun in a sudden updraft. Warmth coasted over its rubbery skin as the glowing yellow orb nearly doubled in size.
Miles above the face of the earth, the balloon sailed on a gentle breeze. No harm could reach it there. It was free.
BWAHAHA idk. My mom was reading one of my stories and got upset, saying, "Why don't you ever write anything happy?? All of your stories are so depressing." I said, "What would you suggest I write about?" and she said, "I don't know…write a story about a happy balloon floating through the air!" So I did, and it was incredibly boring. Never gonna do that again.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Girl
Hey guys, sorry for not having updated in awhile. Recently I've been focusing on art(today my new Wacom tablet came in!!!!! :D), and when I do write it's for stories that are actual STORIES, not just random drabbles that pop into my head. My brother figured out how to fix our scanner a few days ago, though, so I'll probably be uploading pictures instead of literature for awhile.
Yes, I know the shadows on the neck are super exaggerated, but that's because I wanted to focus on learning where all the muscles and bones are in that area. It's practice, not a finished picture. So please don't comment on that area, but critique for everywhere else is welcome!!!!
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