Tears like ripened fruit.
Laughs budding at just the right time.
Up. Down. Up.
That's how they play.

I wanted a different way.
The rugged terrain.
No fruit. No flowers to lead the way.
Just the ugly..the truth.

Like a snare for a rabbit,
I got out.
Out of all the hype.
Now it is real. Now I'm free.

It is real,
I am a fruit sucked dry. A petal withered.

I have tried to fight you.
Tried to fight for freedom.
To find out what it is.
To find it without you.

But, a hypocrite as I am,
I should have known.
There is no freedom in fighting.
Only death and destruction.

Only pain.
Only emptiness.

Please, don't leave me now.

With you last night.

You, with your merriment.

Everything was normal.

Everything was crazy.

Drink. Smile. Drink. Laugh.

So tired, our bodies so full.

So content.

Softly stroking my arm.

Surprised, I had never seen that look on your face.

A confusing smile.

And then my hand took yours.

You slid your body closer to mine.

Your head pressed upon my chest.

You were sweetly sad.

Like, you were just wanting some comfort.

I was solemn.

Aching for something real.

It brought me back..

To that time..

What you said about your sadness.

And how we all do that.

[We all try to replace God.]

Our leaves are wilted.
Water is scarce.
We look up with tears.
If only you would water us.

My death spreads deeper to my veins.
I am in love with you, dear source of my life.
Fill this dried and dessicated shell.
My sanity is forged in your life.

No direction do I have.
What is North?
What is any of it without depth in these vessels?
Disgraced by all else.

I thought I knew.
It was black and white.
My North was meddled with by thieves.
Now it is grey.

You don't mind, do you?

Am I lost?

Are you?

The weight of opportunity weighs heavy on my fragile being.

Opportunity missed. Opportunity taken.

Failure. Freedom. Failure. Disappointment,

I am allowed to fail, aren't I?

Aren't you?

Toss. Turn. Every direction is uncertain.

Not strong enough to stay..not strong enough to keep going.

I am living the epidemic.

Nonsensical is life.

He is the only Thing that makes sense.

And as I dissect this frail heart..

Made of lace, and porcelain, and everything beautiful,

I find more.

So much more than I remembered.

And remembrance can be haunting.

These that are delicate and fragile

Seem so lovely and pure.

But still I find more.

Heartache and sorrow wrap themselves in lace.

Lace is such a pretty blanket, you see.

The glory of God is man fully alive"

Oh, Breath that comes from these lungs.

To make these words into something real.

How I have avoided Your subtlety.

And now I fight for air,

For my breathing patterns fail me.

Crisp air I long to inhale.

Pure, simple truth.

You will expand in my lungs

And push out what is ugly.

I shall exhale You with gladness..

This depth of Breath,

I have imagined You not.

Fullness of Breath teeming.

Up to my throat..

Out of my mouth.

At no time do I run out.

Oh no, I cannot keep You out.

Your breath creates..

This life that reflects Your breath.

Never ceasing.