Ok so that title sounds horribly generic but I'm serious. When I left home, it seems like I lost my identity.
And if I want to be loved, because being loved gives me value, then I have to perform. And if I don't, then I risk not only having no friends but I'm labelled 'selfish' by the one I care about the most: God.
So God here I am. This was supposed to be a blog post. But I'm hurting. I'm sorry that I've failed. Or maybe I'm not as sorry as I should be. I am selfish. I don't want to invest in people's lives. I just want to be alone. But God, somehow I know that's not what You've intended so if You want me to get anywhere in this, You're gonna have to give me supernatural strength because I feel I am on a downward spiral to a well of selfishness, alone. Because I believe in relationships and I have a million ideals. And I love to work, alone. And that won't get me very far.
And I feel, alone.
The homeless person on the street that I just pass by. The friends I avoid.
I want to be alone.
But I can't.
No I don't intend
To write a tearful tale
Of shallow feelings
And lonely sighs
But what else
Can one do
In a state like this
I've got nothing to lose
It's a repetitive tale
I've not forgotten the last time
I've been trying to socialize
Trying, trying.
Something must break
If there's anything left
I've tried.
Hold me,
Hold me tight.
It's nights like these
That I hover under the covers
Trying to find even interruptions
never worked for me somehow
It's nights like these
That I feel the pulse of dread beat
As I think
Will it always be like this?
It's nights like these
That I wonder
Will it always be a struggle
To keep fighting from the bubble
Oh believe me
I'm fighting from the bubble
It's nights like these that I'm lonely
That I try to chase a different story
Than the one that my Lover
Intends for His beloved
It's nights like these that I cry
That I cry under the covers.
You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.
Isaiah 26:3 NIV
http://bible.com/111/isa.26.3.NIV
It's nights like these
That I'm sorry for chasing
wants and my glory.
For trying to tell a different story
I've tried to tell a different story.
One day can't break me
Neither can a thousand
I have a Glue that is stronger
He holds me together.
I've failed today
But that's okay
God give me strength to carry on
I'm tired
Yes, I'm worn
I'm lonely and confused
Yes, still sacred and attuned
Help me move.
To all the provers out there
The ones trying and then regretting
The ones spending then discarding
The ones smiling while they're crying
To all the provers out there
Who are trying to be loved
No point beating round the bush
You're trying to be loved
Provers
You've already been proven.
I'm not really in the mood for poetry today. And that's rare. But I just feel like talking.
What are we all doing? What am I doing? Most of the time I keep quiet in (false) humility but today I talked. I talked and now I just cried. Why am I crying? I know that the words I said weren't completely sincere. I know I was a hypocrite. But I'm not in despair, no. Not like before. I know He still loves me. In my weakness. In this rawness that He craves.
He wounds me but He finally penetrates.
I will be joyfully wounded.
Honestly, I actually sort of believe that I'll truly be happy. God help me.
Look at Him. Don't look at me. Gaze into His fiery eyes. He won't be denied. Let's let Him wound us, let Him touch us. Let Him move us. God, move us.
We are desperate.
I long for the cool mud and clear rivers. I long for the salty air and the way the waves crash on the shore. The waves where I come from are polite but I've heard of larger waves. Waves that are spoilt brats, that steal lives and waves that jealously compete. I've heard of waves that wash over you like they can't hold back their love. Waves that crash. I long for waves that feel.
I long for long walks and for tired but gratified bones. I long for eyes that are strong enough to see beauty. I long to dive.
I long for quiet cottages where the young couple lives with their baby. I long for large looming cities where not everybody is kind. But it's those cities that signify humanity. I long for tired eyes to find strength in His eyes. I long for weak but honest people who are trying to get by. I long for people who have barely scratched the surface of their destined lives.
And yet, for some reason I sit in a concrete box.
Things will soon change.
Honestly
Will I find?
A star so bright
In the bleak night sky
So cold
Lonely souls with tired eyes
I'm risking cliche paradigms
But who cares
The night grows old.
It's just You and me
And our 123s
Come dance with me
Maybe we'll find that star tonight.
Maybe the skies will clear
Help me to see again
I'm tired
I'm cold
I need fire.
