Sunday, August 31, 2014

Poor Girl

You've got another love
and I know it
Someone who adores you 
just like me
Hanging on your words
like they were gold
Thinking that she understands
your soul
                                                          Poor Girl
                                                                      Just like me.

You're breaking another heart
and I know it
And there's nothing 
I can do
If I try to tell her 
what I know
She'll misunderstand
and make me go
                                                           Poor Girl
                                                                      Just like me.

You're going to leave her too
and I know it
She'll never know
what made you go
She'll cry and wonder
what went wrong
Then she'll begin 
to sing this song
                                                           Poor Girl
                                                                      Just like me.

- Maya Angelou

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Disappearance

It came out, one by one, it came out.
No one knows why she left, there are only whispers.
Some speak of another man who came a swept her off her feet.
Others claim she's gone mad and admitted defeat.
Some speak of deceit, they say she lied.
But you know the truth, you let it hide.
You sit and hear all the hums and the guesses. You even speak your two sentences.
Time will fade and so will talk, leaving you and I to never talk.
You let her name run wild, you let it be thrown in the mud.
For the truth lies in you, never to be touched.

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Life. Love. And All The Above

It's amazing how life changes when you start focusing on moments. When you sit and really drink in those moments of pure laughter. The moments when music takes a fluid like form into your very soul. The moments when you feel, you really really feel.

I've been drinking in knowledge like it's a vital element for survival. Truth has become my best friend. Trust is a daily battle. Confidence comes and goes. I feel strong one day and weak the next.

As the sun rises and sets each day, I find myself learning new things about life:

- Getting out of bed is hard. No matter how early you go to bed.
- The colors God chooses to start the day off with make the battle to get up worth it. Every. Single. Day.
- Truth doesn't always give you the warm and fuzzy feelings. In fact, you rarely like truth at first, but it's the sweetest and deepest love you will ever experience once you accept it.
- Good people are rare and hard to find. Be selfless with these people. ALWAYS.
- Coldplay is perfect. Everyday. All day.
- Loving people, truly loving people hurts like hell some days.
- You can't be someone to everyone, but you can be someone for one. Divide your time wisely.
- Don't be afraid to think for yourself. Even if what you think is wrong, you're exorcising that unique brain of yours. We need your uniqueness, we don't need more copy cats.
- Poetry will change your life.
- Music will change your life.
- People will change your life.
- Don't be afraid to let change in.
- Dream big dreams.
- Never say, "It can't be done." You don't know that.
- Connecting with people is always worth it. Even if the connection is temporary. It's always worth it.
- Don't be so hard on yourself. You're human. Imperfection is in your DNA.
- Go to bed early if the opportunity presents itself.
- Stay up past your bedtime for conversations, apologies, concerts, fire pits, and star gazing.
- Star gaze every chance you can get. No matter the temperature outside.
- You'll only survive if you believe in a God who made you, loves you beyond comprehension, wants good things for you, and that he just wants to love you. He just wants to love YOU.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Hope

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

- Emily Dickinson