Dead

I feel like a dead person. I feel like I am lyinf on the ground. And every time I try to get up, I go back down? Because as I get up, I am told I am not tall and high enough yet. And you're either high enough or as good as flat on the ground. Either down or up. And I feel like there's not much of a way out. So, prove me wrong, Dad.

Who

The thing about me is this. I am what I believe. I can be totally different people based on what I perceive you believe me to be. Basically, I act . Sometimes I act as someone you would like. Sometimes I act as someone you would hate . And sometimes even I am not sure.

Closed eyes

I feel like there's a song playing in my head. And I don't like it. And so I play another song, louder song to drown out the first.
Then maybe another or at least I amplify the second song.
But the first song still plays.
And it will continue to play.
I need to obey.
Or I will never learn to love the first song, the true song.

A hug

Pull me close
Hold me tight
Let me just stay in your arms.

Feel the warmth
Warmer than sunrise

I need you now
I need a touch.
Someone to sing this song
With me

I need you now.
Feel my pain
And let me stay
Right here in your arms

I need it to be real.
Not just a thought
Please let me stay
Right here in your arms.

She.

She sat by the lake. With her hands lifted up and sweet wind in her face. With the thrill of cool water playing with her toes and dancing amidst her phalanges. The kiss of the King and a word of advice had been given. Tomorrow all would end and begin. Worlds apart. It was time for take-off. Sweet innocent soul.

Cause you'll see- the paranoia of a person who fears rejection-

I wear long dresses
And cover my face
Cause you'll see

I got wounds all over
You'll be disgusted
By this not-so- anomaly.

I spray perfume
To hide the stench
Of dried blood
Cause you'll smell.

Cause you'll see.
The mask stays
Cause you'll see.

My wounds grow foul and fester Because of my folly.
Psalms 38:5 NASB
http://bible.com/100/psa.38.5.NASB

I wrote the poem yesterday and..
The Scripture was my Nana's scripture reading today.

God reads.

Loneliness

It aches.
I know tis' isn't right.
I shouldn't want attention.
I should be selfless.
I shouldn't have urges to slap myself
just so somebody will talk to me and care.

I want to have a real talk with somebody.
Perhaps it is just a pity party.
I feel anxiety.
I am tired and yet stubborn.
God help me.
Please.