Monday, September 29, 2008

The Battle of I AM and who I am.

I am.
I am liar.
I am a hypocrite.
I am my own pet cause.
I am a living contradiction.
I am a punk in prep's clothing.
I am a captive to my addictions.
I am a fighter, rather than a lover.
I am plagued by bad decisions and missed goals.
I am one who strives for perfection, but falls short.

Therefore I live and breathe.
I am the one who releases you from your captivity.

How could I be free?
I am your solution.
That's possible?
I am the one who loves you more than you can fathom.
What could I do to deserve this?
I am your warrior.
My fighting is over.
I am your truth.
My lies are dead and gone.
I am your perfection.
This brokenness is how I am made whole.
I am your protector.
I'm safe here.
I am the one who conquered hell for you.
This is what true life is like.
I am so in love with you.

Monday, September 1, 2008


Inspired by reading replies to a " To Write Love On Her Arms" bulletein

Is this solace?
Is this peace?
In this space between the open sides of this cut, this gash dug by some inhuman creature... Is peace there?
Is this relief?
Is this what escape is supposed to feel like?
I don't really know anymore. Its been so long since I felt I could forget my pain, my struggles, without carving a mark into my skin.
This blade was supposed to be my glue, supposed to be my needle and thread to sew the shell of myself back into something that resembles a human being.
It was supposed to fill in the holes that I couldn't dig myself out of.
It hasn't killed me, so if its like everyone says, shouldn't I be stronger?
Shouldn't I be the one in control, instead of the blade?
Shouldn't I be happier?

Faulty glue, frayed thread, broken needle.
I'm still so broken...