Far From Glory.

One by one, all of them slammed the door in her face, left alone to only find satan’s embrace.

She finds herself trapped inside a mile high wall made of pure cement and fear. She adapts to the loneliness that has so unknowingly wrapped it’s tight grip around her throat.

Her voice was not meant to be silent and trapped.

And she tries to scream but nothing will come out. Satan has stolen her voice as she gives one unheard and final shout.

She tries to cry but the tears are on a drought. And far too much gunk is stuffed up her spout for it to ever flow properly again.

And it’s always just a bit longer, isn’t it?

It’s always ‘Your time is coming, the sun will shine again!’

But her time has not come and she still can’t see that bright, warm sun.

His cold hands are tight around her neck. It’s hard for her to breathe, it’s hard for her to see.

Death has never smelled so sweet before! It’s so inviting tonight and so delicious!

She was never scared of much at all, always willing to take the fall. The Bogeyman is a joke and Bloody Mary is her best friend.

But there are two things that make her cower in fear. The truth and herself.

What if they really don’t love her? What if they never actually wanted her around? What if she doesn’t get out alive? What if You gave up on her just like the rest of them?

She’s content with lying to herself so she doesn’t have to bring herself to believe that these things are true.

She fears herself the most. She fears who she is and who she’s become. She’s become content with living numb, at least she thinks.

She keeps up these walls of steel so she doesn’t have to know what it feels like to be hurt anymore. This will never help her heal, but she thinks she’s learned to be content with that truth, at least.

They’re the reason that she wants to drink her sorrows away, drown them.

They’re the reason that she looks at the bottom of glasses for an answer that will never be there.

And she finds herself looking in the bottom of a glass again to find what she knows won’t be there. But she’s looking for nothing, really.

Looking for nothing in hopes that she’ll find something .

Something that will fulfill her growing emptiness. Something that will help her cope with the loneliness.

But no matter how much she tries to fight to keep them away, the secrets she tries to hide come alive and haunt her until she cries.

Everybody’s laughing and joking while they slam down their drinks, but behind her drunken mask lies a desperate attempt to find wholeness, happiness, and reassurance.

But just like she knows, the only thing she’ll find at the bottom of that glass is disappointment topped off with a heavy, hard-hitting feeling in her stomach of regret and hate.

And now in a slurred tongue, that never really fit who she was meant to be, she feeds herself the lies that often try to bring her demise.

She’s never going to rise above, so in order to cope with that truth, she deceives herself into believing the lies are anchored and true. But they really just deny her worth, and she’s knows it, but she defies every real truth.

It’s weird that somebody can be so smart, but yet so stupid at the same time!

Because, she knows that she’ll find nothing in that scene, but yet she still comes searching and fully armed with hope that she’ll find something.

Well, yeah, she did find something, actually. She found another monster that’s chasing after her.

She doesn’t know how to love her, he doesn’t know how to love her, so she has to ask You, do You know how to love her?

Well then SHOW her!

She keeps falling down the pit faster and faster, but You’re standing there at the bottom with open, waiting arms and a world of understanding in Your eyes.

More understanding then she’ll ever be able to understand.

But that’s exactly it! She’ll never be able to understand, and if she can’t understand, how is she to withstand?

Please, reassure her there will be a happy ending to this story, because right now everything she imagines is far from glory.

And one by one all of them continue to slam the door in her face, left alone only to find God’s embrace.

Does It Make You Feel Like A Man?

Go ahead and be that big man, stretch up your arm and raise that strong hand.

Does it feel good when you strike her? Does it make you feel like a man?

Every time she’d lay awake at night and listen to you striking her down, a part of her died.

And every time she heard them scream for mercy, her heart caught on fire.

Now she’s dead, numb and her heart is burned black to ashes

Go ahead and push her away, steal all her hopes for better days.

Does it feel good to break her heart beyond repair? Does it make you feel like a man?

Oh, I how I hope you do! You really should.

It takes a real man to raise his hand to every one of them that loved him.

LOVED him. Because she doesn’t love him anymore.

But he comes at her with hidden regret and so many insecurities and blames her for the way things have turned out.

HE wants HER to come back to him. HE wants HER to apologize. HE wants HER to take the blame for why things fell apart.

He denies that it was ever his fault. He says none of it was. He says it’s all because of her.

One day he’ll try to apologize. But even then, she won’t take him back.

She’s made the mistake before of giving second chances and she wants to protect what’s left of her heart.

That little part that still seems to function a little bit.

But she wants to give you a second chance because she still has this crazy dream that one day you and her will be best friends just like she dreamed about when she was young.

But here you go again, turning back to the bottle and calling her up to say you quit.

Go ahead and ignore your daughter, leave her in the streets.

Does it feel good to not care about your child? Does it make you feel like a man?

Why can’t you just decide? Either completely walk out of her life or fix yourself up and be a real man, the man she always dreamed that you’d be.

Go ahead and mix your drink, while your at it take a shot… two… three…

Does it feel good when that liquor burns down your throat? Does it make you feel like a man?

As the alcohol sinks in I wonder if you plan your attacks or are they spur of the moment?

Do all your failures affect you? I’m sure they do, at least that’s what I tell myself to make it hurt less.

I know you’re a broken mess. That’s why you drown all your problems, all your struggles, all your feelings.

So broken, so numb, so much longing to be heard and loved.

Go ahead and ruin her image of man, destroy her dreams of finding love.

Does it feel good to ruin her life just like you ruined yours? Does it make you feel like a man?

She’s always aspired to be something more but she can never build up the courage to unlock the door.

So now she’s hiding from you and running the wrong way because of you.

Go ahead and blame her for this misfortune, blame everything on her.

Does it feel good when you strike her? Does it make you feel like a man yet?

Stop it, Stop, Stop It Please.

Please.

My ears scream

and my throat bleeds for you!

Stop it! Please.

One simple request I ask you

to fulfill.

You’ve never fulfilled

anything you’ve promised

before.

So I ask you tonight,

please just STOP. PLEASE.

My ears bleed

and my throat screams for this pain!

PLEASE, on my knees I’m

begging.

STOP!

The White Room

There is no escape. There are no doors, no windows, no souls.

It seems like there are strobes everywhere shining so bright it’s almost uneasy.

I’m stuck in this white room.

I open my mouth and scream so hard but I can’t hear anything.

I feel hopeless. I am lost. I feel broken.

I’m trapped, forever.

I’m stuck in this white room.

And even though I’m curled up in the corner,

I feel like I’m falling a million miles per hour in a downward spiral.

I’m stuck in this white room for eternity.

In The Dead Of The NIght

Here in the darkness, in the dead of the night, the walls around me personify and they whisper to me.

My monsters creep up from underneath and crawl under my skin. They constrict like a wreath of sorrow. They crawl into my brain and infect my eyes.

Here in the darkness, in the dead of the night, the walls around me personify and they SCREAM at me.

My monsters dangle these lies in front of me that I’m not strong enough to despise.

They disguise the distractions that deny my worth.

I try to be wise, but the monsters try to compromise with me and I always chose the unwise way and am rewarded with the prize of self-hate.

And everybody tries to get free from the monsters and they usually rise above.

But I’m still stuck here on temporary highs, clinging to my monsters tight while they incise my heart.

When I was a little girl, I always passed the day outside.

I pretended I was a princess because in my fantasy world, love was real and hope was real.

I would stay out there and hide. They always told me they loved me, but they lied.

The day I found out the truth was the day that girl died.

I tucked my feelings aside and always lied about my insides. In who was I supposed to confide?

So it turned into WHAT I had to confide in instead of WHO. And when you get into that obscene scene, everything seems to collide and you have to decide everything in a flash second.

But most of the time I relied on my monsters to make my decisions with pride.

Everyday I had to push aside the tide of feelings rising up. The last time I was cried was the day that little girl died.

Because every time I feel the tears rising and that lump coming up in my throat, I cling alongside to my monsters and hide.

Things used to be in vibrant colors, warm colors. But now everything is gray and black.

I try to track back to how I got so out of whack but every time I find myself with an answer and hope, the monsters come and smack me and bring me back to the dark.

Then I fall back into this never-ending anxiety attack.

And a while back, while I was running from the monsters, my mustard seed fell out of my hand and out of sight.

That’s the day that I decided I lost the fight.

And ever since that girl died, I’ve never been quite alright.

The monsters have never been contrite. They take a delight in hiding me from the light.

Every time I try to get away from them, they creep up in the dead of the night and ignite something disturbing in my brain, and that’s when the bad thoughts take flight.

And every time this happens a kind of blight happens to my might and I lose every fight.

But every now and then a kind of hope comes alive in my being and it excites me. And I sit tight and upright while I try to listen for His voice.

I wait for a moment that I can rejoice in. But I never seem to find his voice or that moment of rejoice.

I guess that it’s my choice to live like this. To live in remiss. I try some times to reminisce back to the days of bliss but all I seem to find is a dark abyss of loneliness.

Am I just missing something? Or should I just dismiss what’s left of my hope.

I want to be whole. I want to find my soul.

“HELLO!? IS THERE EVEN A HEART IN THERE?!”

How could one without a heart possibly become whole?

The monsters have been distracting me and have been getting me to console in the control.

But once I can finally break free for a moment or two, I figure out that I have to press onward towards the goal that Christ has called me to!

I figure out that I have to step up and take back what the monsters stole!

So I’ll keep my mind on a patrol so that I don’t fall back down that rabbit whole.

And I can feel that my gray soul is turning back to warm colors.

I’m not saying I’m whole and well, I’m not saying I’m happy,

But I’m saying that I refuse to dwell in depression and not impel.

So I will say farewell to this hell one day soon, an when that day comes and I begin to excel,

The little girl that died will come back alive.

The little girl that is now alive will survive the evil that the monsters contrive.

And the little girl that is now alive will revive all her lost hope and learn to strive on the love of her Father.

Your cigarette stained lies.

Disgusting, filthy mask, isn’t it?

If she ever took it off for you, all that filth would pour out until nothing was left.

You really don’t want to see it.

She decided that she’s not letting anybody in anymore.

The core of her heart has rotted down from years ago.

She’ll smile and say “Good! You?”,

not letting anybody in. Nobody is the only exception.

Her story ends there.

Bi-Polar Nerves.

Ups and downs

Highs and lows

Never letting her true colors show

Take off that mask, nice and slow

Vibrant yellows, greens, and pinks

For the times when she thinks happy

Moderate teals, oranges, and silver

For the times when she is lost

Dark blues, navy, and red

For the times when she wants to be dead

I'm Sorry, Sir, But Your Love Is Cheap!

I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to break down and cry like that. It’s just that I imagined this moment so different! I thought I would love you.

And I thought I would have known you for more than an hour or was it two? I’m sorry, sir, was I not good enough for you?

No offense taken, I’ve never been good enough for anybody so why should I expect to be good enough for you?

I’m sorry sir, but perfection has never been my thing. But on the other hand I’m the queen of rejection so this doesn’t really hurt me. But sir, I feel a connection here between me and you.

See, I can see past your lies and I know you’re lookin’ for more than just another good erection and another good injection.

I can see it in your eyes that you’re lacking something just like I am! And I’m sorry, sir, for prying but I just want to know why you’re okay with slowly dying?!

You have so much love but you’re misapplying it. You’re relying on those needles to but a fake grin on your face. And you’re denying the loneliness that has knowingly chewed a trench in your heart!

And now you’re sitting here sighing after another good buy that’s denying the beauty that was supposed to be beautiful years down the line.

And when it’s the dead of night, you’ll lay there crying because you’re sick of complying and sick of lying and sick of trying.

And sir, I’m telling you, when you feel like dying, PLEASE keep trying because even though it doesn’t feel like it, I know at least one person who is always overlying.

I’m sorry, sir, but you were meant for so much more than these cheap love scenes that leave us both so broken! And when we walk out these doors it seems we walk out more hurt than when we walked in! And I refuse to let all this go unspoken.

I’m sorry, sir, but I see STRAIGHT through your mask! And I know how it feels to have somebody see through them! It kind if makes you feel condemned.

But I promise, sir, I’m not here for that! I was here to find love, too! I was here to fill the growing trench in my heart and all of the above.

I wanted was to rid myself of those monsters that follow me through the night. I wanted to forget about the pain that has stained my brain.

I wanted to forget his face, I wanted to forget her face. I wanted to forget the loneliness that won’t leave my space. I didn’t want to sit up alone all night and pace.

I needed to FEEL a strangers embrace! All just encase God’s grace won’t replace all of this bitter hate!

Did you ever experience God’s grace? Or have you always felt out of place in outer space in your very own hiding place that became your imaginary place and now it’s a display case of your not-so-holy place?

Now you have your perfect poker face that stays in place just like the rest of the human race.

And I’m sorry, sir, to be speaking your heart, but I know the pain all to well. But just like I said, I feel a connection here between you and me.

And sir, I barely even know what I’m saying! I’m sorry, sir, but I must say, put down your dope because it will never truly help you cope, trust me.

Whatever did happen to all of your hope?

Did you hang it high and pray every night that your dreams would come true, then come just to find out that dreams never come true?

Did the monsters lure you in with their enticing sin and make you feel like you could win but then just knock you down like a bowling pin? And then, “STRIKE, YOU’RE OUT!”

Oh, sir, I am sorry. But don’t you know all the answers to the unanswered questions lie within?

But you have to begin to WANT it or you’ll never have it.

And sir, I’m telling you, pick up that hope again! It’s how your faith is created! And I know you’ve hated and you’ve waited and you’re sedated but none of that matters to Him!

He didn’t leave you vacated and you’re not unrelated. Look at me! We’re practically the same.

And sir, I think I know more than anyone how hard it is to trust Him, but I’m tellin’ you, He WILL take away that grim.

And sir, I think I know more than anyone that He has never left you! No matter how much dew covers your eyes, He’s right by your side!

And sir, I think I know more than anyone that His mercy will cover all your mistakes from the past, present, and future!

And sir, I think I know more than anyone that He loves us deeper than we could ever imagine being loved.

And one last thing, sir, I’ll take that mask for you.

Tonight I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve and be honest.

“I’ve been thinking way too hard lately about getting some meds to help clear up this depression that’s clouding my head!” -Levi The Poet.

__________________________________

This depression just won’t disjoint! I’ve tried and tried to appoint it to new feelings, feelings like perhaps joy. But it’s never going to reappoint.

Disappointment floods my life and floods my soul. It’s always continuing, like one of those never ending holes. All I seem to hear, see, feel, and do is disappoint.

And every time I’ve cried to You, God, you’ve never replied. And every time You don’t reply I seem to subside. By Your rules, I always tried my hardest to abide, But I can never seem to feel You by my side.

In You, I always confide, but how can I confide when I can’t even feel Your guide, when You’re not by my side? The last time I couldn’t feel You by my side, I almost died. People who only know the upside of life shutter at the word of suicide. But I’ve never heard a word more beautiful than my beloved suicide.

As I stare once again into the reflection of my beaten soul and look again into my bloodshot eyes, something dark there underlies. There’s a detection of a collection of the lack of affection and protection with a little misguided direction. Then there’s an infection of imperfection and a lot of rejection. Not to mention, the disconnection of You and me.

Speaking of affection. When I go to bed there’s a million and one thoughts sprinting through my head, but one always seems to be ahead. Because every night I wish there was a stranger laying too close for comfort in my bed.

I’m sick of the loneliness eating away at my brain. I’ve tried to abstain from this lust but somehow, someway I need to rid myself of this pain. And I know this is unjust and you look at me in disgust but who else can I trust to readjust my brokenness?

I’ll never be able to attain the life You have planned for me when I’m stuck here held back chain by chain. I’ve ran so far away I can never regain, and I’m afraid I’ll go insane. I try not to complain, but what they do to me is inhumane and the pain is kind of hard to explain.

And now my body bleeds because of all these insecurities, the obscurity, and all of this impurity. And let’s not forget the lack of surety on if tomorrow will ever come for me.

I want You to, no, I need You to rescue me like You rescued David when he was in distress. You thundered down from Heaven and gave him refuge and saved him from the monsters.

I have to prevail! I admit to You, the monsters are TOO strong, and I’ve become frail. I know You and I know You would never betray me. I want Your love to impale me. Life is not a fairytale. With Your grace I cannot fail. Oh God, I will prevail!

I’m Okay, I’m Okay.

No, no, NO! I’m NOT okay! Do I look okay?!… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to explode.

No, I’m not sorry. I am SICK of being sorry, I’m sick of hearing it, because nobody means it anymore.

Nobody cares. Nobody cares why these scars dance along my forearms. All I am to you is a bore.

Nobody cares why all I can tell you is lies.

Nobody cares why tears fall from these bloodshot eyes…

Actually, tears can’t fall from these eyes, because one night I woke up from the sound of my parents screaming at each other, then the sound of my mother getting beat.

And that night I swore to myself I would never cry again. Then a new feeling overcame me, the feeling of defeat!

And since I was eight, since that night, I never cried again. I never let anyone in, except for the cool alcohol streaming down my throat,

Except for the pills following short behind, afloat,

The pot fogging out of my lips, and except for the blade ripping open my skin.

Since then, I always let my parents down. You know, failure is a scary thing.

With all the scary, disappointing mishaps it will bring.

But it’s something I fear all the time, failing, but yet I always set myself up for it, every time. And now here I am, I’ve lost grip and I’m falling faster and deeper.

I have nothing left to hold onto, and could this path possibly get any steeper?

I remember being a little kid and believing in Santa, I remember wanting to be an actress, an artist, wanting to succeed!

I wanted to believe two people could last together forever. I wanted to believe I didn’t have to see my arms bleed.

But see, how else was I supposed to cope?!

All my childhood dreams were CRUSHED along with all my hope.

They washed down the drain with the warm, sticky, red tears that fell from my wrist.

They were buried six feet under, just where I belong. Another empty name on the list.

I’ve given all I have, and I have nothing left to give. I’m left empty-handed.

Are you happy now? Are you happy I’m here abandoned?

What do I have left, WHO do I have left? NOTHING, NOBODY! God, do you even here me?

The one thing I’ve always wanted was to be loved, to feel like somebody wanted me,

To feel as if I make a difference in somebody’s life. I want to break free!

But here I am, slowly popping,… drinking,… smoking,… and one by one, cutting my problems away.

And all that seems to do is make the monsters stronger. I think the monsters are here to stay!

God, I said I’d never let anybody in, and I meant it, but I NEED YOU!

I need your hand to hold! I need YOUR hand to pull me through!

God, if I sink any lower, the monsters will have complete control

And after that I can’t come back! And I’m going to lose my soul!

I’m scared of what will happen next, I’m scared this craving for the monsters that’s developing will never fill my empty hole!

God, if you are the God that everybody says you are, if you are the God that you claim to be,

I need to you to come to me, I need you to show me!

I don’t have much time left until the blood spills all out of my body!

I have a growing urgency, God, this is an emergency!

Time is ticking down, and I can here the monsters laughing…

JESUS!! Please, take my hand!