Your Beloved Child

Don't forget to take your meds,
they're what's keeping you alive now days;
And don't think I can't smell your breath
or the bottle you hold so close to your chest
or the anger that burns in your eyes
when you begin to realize
that the power of the needle is wearing off again

Your mouth slurs out spits of anger
at the ones who love you the most,
but your heart is so hard now,
so, tell me, what went wrong?

This dark night makes it so much easier to see the smoke that engulfs your head
circling around you.
You breathe.
And the fire burning in your throat is still no match for the fire that burns in your soul..
burning for something more satisfying than the remains of the liquid in your red dixie cup

I know it's hard when you've got no answers,
and your life is slipping away through the cracks in your hands,
and you have no choice but to sit there and watch
while it seems like no one else gives a damn..
But just remember how we felt the day you had a choice between us and the bottle you were holding,
and how you walked away with what was in your hand.

17 at Christmastime

This isn't the first time that I've wished for a little bit of snow
it's just hard when you want to talk, but you know
that no one could ever empathize with your hope to hear sleigh bells

And that old pogo stick, I swear, it was like hell on a spring,
but the best part of it was the first time I tore open it's package
ripping away without mercy at the red, silky strings

And laying in bed early in the morning with my sister at a minute 'til 6
sweating bullets and praying to God for patience until the last few seconds finally ticked
and we stormed down the stairs knowing what lay under the tree,
and even though nothing has changed, it's just not the same anymore for me..

And it hurts to be reminded of your loved ones' deaths in pictures everywhere you look
but it's even harder to remember the last breath you took
when you realized for the first time that Saint Nick wasn't all that he was talked up to be..

It grievs me that gift-giving is such a task
And how I grumble and complain when I have to drive 13 hours to get back home,
when really, it's not that much to ask
Yeah, it seems like it's never going to feel the same way as it did when I was nine,
But I guess that's how you're supposed to feel when you're 17 at Christmastime

Your Empty Song

I like the way your hands move up and down the strings
and how your eyes flutter to a close when you begin to sing
To me?
No, not now..not yet
Not here, not in this moment
But baby, your eyes still sparkle and my knees still shake
everytime I wake up from this coma to see your gentle face

Yeah, if you would just write me a song
and pretend to sing it from your heart,
and although it would be a cacophony of empty words
with nothing right and everything all wrong
I would sing it my head
when I'm laying wide-eyed in my bed
with only your empty words full of love to drift into my dreams..

Middle of the day and you're in a crowd
And not even this big apple can undermine the glow of your body
and the smell of you on me
when you greet me with a hug for the first time in, I don't know, but it seems like years
Yeah, a wink would make me tremble, and a kiss would bring me to the ground,
but what I want more than anything is just that sound..

Of you singing me, oh, just some ol' song
and pretending to sing it from your heart
and although it would be a cacophony of empty words
with nothing right and everything all wrong
I would sing it my head
when I'm laying wide-eyed in my bed
with only your empty words full of love to drift into my dreams..

Yeah, baby, your eyes, they still sparkle
and my mouth, oh, it waters
when I conceive your candy lips;
yeah, I know you love her,
but if you would just lay that aside and give me an answer,
will you please, baby, just do me one favor?

Would you sing me oh, just some ol' song
and pretend to sing it from your heart
and I know it would be a cacophony of empty words
with nothing right and everything all wrong
But I would sing it my head
when I'm laying wide-eyed in my bed
with only your empty words full of love to drift into my dreams..

What If I Fail

Fallibility and insecutiry seem to be getting the best of me lately.
Grey lines fade into the ground,
And seeing which way is best isn't as easy as it was when I was six years old.
It's so much harder to choose your life when you know you have the potential,
when you know you are capable,
when you KNOW you have the ability to excel,
but fear from past failures make you second guess your every move.

I'm just a number.
Just a nomad to the world.
The worst that could happen is I fail.
But what if that's just enough to keep me off my feet?

Since when has timed passed by so quickly?
The moments are ticking away
and my heart tells me to pursue everything I've prepared for,
it tells me to never underestimate the power of this finite body

So why the hell am I waiting for some sign
like some superstistious fool?
The life I've been given has far too many options to throw away
My stomach is full, my eyes are rested, and my family is alive and well,
So no matter where I am
or what decisions I've made
or how many opportunities I've let go by,
I will always remain faithful to the fact that my life will always account for something worth while..

Whether it be the wounds I heal, the stomachs I feed, or the joy I bring to a soul,
this is all worth whatever ridiculous decisions I've made.
Because carrying someone else's weight is the more satisfying than anything I could ever ask for..
more rewarding than the riches that I'll ever be offered..
So, really, I have nothing to lose.

Let Me

I so desperately wish that life had a "delete" button so that everything I have ever learned about Christ, the Trinity, the Bible, church, and prayer would be completely gone. I wouldn't remember who it was that everyone referred to when they said "the Son of God." I wouldn't be able to tell you if heaven or hell existed--or any after life for that matter. The only thing I knew about the Bible was that it had a shiny cover and only rich, elite, "good" people were allowed to carry it around under their arm...but no one really ever read it...I mean, c'mon.

I hate having such a generic, cliche perception of who God "is." It's always the same thing. The same words are always uttered in prayer, and the same phrases are always used when no one knows what else to say..("God bless you", "I'll be praying for you", "Have you talked to God about it yet?", "God has such a great plan for you.")
It feels as if God is the same to everyone. The same God that everyone prays the same prayers to. The same God that apparently answers everyone the same way. The same God that everyone has the same quiet time with: in the same room everyday, reading the same verse over and over again because it "sticks out to you" (I detest that phrase), and doing every "motion" in the same order.

This works for some people. And actully, a lot of people don't mind it. They apparently like it, judging by the number of firm believers who seem to appreciate this "God" who is the exact same for every single person who has ever lived.

..But it doesn't work for me. I can't stand it. It annoys the hell out of me when people are always on the same level with everyone. Just ponder this: a friend who talks about the same things with all their friends and aquaintences. Always discussing what the hell is wrong in the world today, how we can prevent global warming, and why starbucks stopped selling everyone's favorite cappucino. Whatever the topic may be, it is all that is discussed. Nothing more. Nothing deeper...even between the best of friends.
Do you see the problem here?

Even in the most intimate of friendships, the person is still the same as he/she is with everyone else. That's how God feels to me sometimes. And it's extremely aggrevating.

In essence, I feel like this would all be solved if I had no idea of who Christ was when I was growing up. Of course, that would have it's down sides, obviously...but I wouldn't have to had grown up with all that "God bless you," "Jesus is the reason for the season," "Pray before you eat or you'll die" crap. Because then I wouldn'tbe prone to adopt the SAME ideas of who God is as every other American Christian has.

I want to start over. Forget about excelling in my relationship with Christ...before I can go anywhere with Him, I have to know who He is. Who He is not to everyone else, but to me. Who He is to me. I hate cliche Christianity...how could anyone know Christ on an intimate level (what it was designed for, by the way) if they are satisfied with knowing who they have been told by other Christians who He is? Stop feeding me this crap. I don't care who you think God is. I want to find out for myself.