Crash

The walls I've spent my life so carefully
constructing are crashing. They are falling
all around me. How did this happen? I ask
myself frantically as I try to rebuild my
safety zone. These walls were made of the
toughest stuff in the world no one got in
nothing got out.


My walls are crashing, how is this happening?
Someone, something I don't know what is breaking
in. I'm running around in terror with urgency
trying to rebuild these walls, these holes.
But its not use they are crashing around me,
all my hard work is disappearing.


Something inside is awakening, something that
has been long dead, something left behind in
another life. Something I never thought I could
get back, but its awakening.

Its crashing, its all crashing around me oh how
terrified I am, so long have I been behind these
walls, so long have I felt nothing so long have
I been "just okay" safe and secure behind my walls.
I look to see who's tearing through them but I cannot
tell. I search to find the source of this disturbance
but none is found!

I have no way of stopping this crash, of stopping this
destruction of my safety zone, I hope its for the good.
I pray its for the best, I wish it would stop. Being
without my walls leaves me bare and scared. So I keep
attempting to rebuild them but they crash down at my
feet faster then I can repair them.


Its all coming to an end, my life is reawakening, myself
is falling apart. I sit down in the darkest corner and
watch my walls fall. Waiting for the one who's tearing
them down to emerge. I wait in anticipation and fear.
I'm crashing.


I'm breaking in two, I'll see it through.
You won't keep me down, when I crash through you.
~Decyfer Down

My Beloved Monster and Me

Oh what a wretched creature I am.
I try to be something better but
my wretchedness follows my every footstep.
There's a monster in my depths that screams
for its power. I can't control it, how it
burns to be released so it can revenge
this world for its goods.

Holding on to what's so dear and dreaming
of the fear. This battle of two sides
cannot be won. Some days we forget why
we are even fighting. It is like time has
stopped and we are on the edge of a cliff
falling. And we look at each other and we
quickly create a human chain and save ourselves
before the fall.

My beloved monster and Me, we love and hate
each other. And yet we cannot seem to survive
without the other. My Monster understands me
like none other, and is always happy to listen
to whatever I may tell it. Always eager to tell
me the lies that I will see as truth in my deluded
mind.

Soon we are fighting again, with swords we battle
to the edge of eternity for the rights to my soul.
This Monster and Me we know the truth about me.
You said you'd come and save me, you said you'd save
me from this Monster that's so much like me.
And yet here I've fought alone for all these years.


Now your here, your telling me its over, your saying
that I must leave and you will destroy my beloved
monster. I look at my monster with tears in my eyes.
And I tell you, please forgive it, please be merciful.
Because in another life...this would have been me.
I turn my back and I leave, I hear my Monster whimper
in fear and then a painful cry. The silence fills
the void in between.

I stand on cliff, the cliff we had fought so many long
years on. I bring my sword to my eyes and I cast it
over the edge and darkness. A shadow appears in the
dust below, my monster still watches me I'll never be
rid of her. Oh forgive this wretched soul of mine for
I always said...that I'd be fine.

Eloquent

I'm as eloquent as an elephant
I'm as headstrong as the Mighty King Kong
On a rampage throwing airplanes
I can't believe you haven't gone away
I am difficult, argumentative
I'm as thick skulled as the dinosaur
bones on a display in a glass case
I can't believe you haven't run away


It must be different through your eyes
Because you look at me like it's the first time
That you've ever seen my face


I'm preoccupied with a crowded mind
I get off track like a train rolling
back to the future. Never too sure who'll
be here when I come back around
But I'm finding out

It must be different through your eyes
Because you look at me like it's the first time
That you've ever seen my face.


Well I see you the way you see me
I don't understand the way you see me..

Sanctus Real-Eloquent

far from ordinary

I've learned something about myself.
Something that sickens me beyond words.
I desire the approval of the people who
hurt me.
The constant thought of...would they want
me now? Am I good enough now? If I do this
will I be good enough for you?

To acknowledge this about myself is very
painful. I hate that fact I desire this.
But doesn't everyone? In someway or another
we desire to prove to those people we aren't
what they say we are.

That we are worth more then what they ditched
us for. I've had my heart torn out more ways
then one, and I find myself wondering...would
you love me now? Am I pretty enough for you now?
Am I quiet enough for you now? Am I special enough
to be your friend now? Am I everything you want?

Then I ask myself why I'm asking these questions.
Why do I lower myself to this? When I know that
I am worth more then they think I am. I regret so
much, but somewhere inside me I know that I'm
worth more then these questions and their approval.

The truth is they will never approve and they will
claim every chance to tell me I am ugly, that I am
to opinionated, that I am to weird for them to ever
love me. I'll never gain their approval because they
are to cynical and prideful to ever notice me or love
me.

But there are other people who do love me, who do care
for me. And I need to strive to make them proud.
But oh how I struggle, oh how I want you to love me so
much. I hate that I feel this way, and I will grow out
of it. I guess that just proves I'm young and foolish.

What you did to me pushed me to be something more.
I strive to succeed to prove you wrong, because your
words and actions left questions and doubts in my mind
that I could ever be good at all. I fight myself for
footing to succeed, I fight for the chance to be a little
more than ordinary.

Maybe inside I just want to be a little extraordinary.
Its selfish I know but, now I'm pushing myself to prove
to myself I am something other then a vacant lifeless
soul you left behind because I was to ordinary.

I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me.
Its the only way I'll ever be what I truly desire
to be. I don't blame you, I forgive you. But I wish
you had just given me a chance to show you that I am
far from ordinary.

Christa

(picture done by http://kayanya.deviantart.com/)

Oh Sorrow

There once was a little girl. Who wished
to be a princess. Oh how she dreamed and
twirled in her beautiful purple dress and
dreamt dreams of a young little girl.

This little girl became a young woman
and try as she might those dreams and wishes
never left. She knew they were foolish but
how she longed for them to one day become
real. And yet she dreamed and dreamed some more.

Years went by and the young girl became a woman
still searching for love that she had desired
since a child.
One day a man came along and fell in love with
this young woman, but he had not the strength
to tell her yet.
The young woman fell in love with the young man
as well. And finally her dream had come true!
Or so she thought, she waited and waited hoping.

Thoughts began flooding her mind, whispers of an
unseen darkness. "How could he ever love you?"
the voice whispered. "You are a dreamer, a wild
spirited soul. You are not what he would want"
The woman fought these thoughts but ever so slowly
she began to believe them.
"You'll never be what he truly desires, there is
nothing special about you. Your hair is plain your
form is undesirable your dreams and desires are
foolish. Your eyes are dead and your face holds no
real beauty, you will never stand up, your better
off alone"

Then one day the young man got down on one knee before
her and laid his heart out before her. But the poison
was to deep to be cured now. The young woman could not
believe that he could truly ever love her. So she ran.
She ran from her love she ran from her dreams and left
it behind in the dust. Leaving behind the one who loved
her more then life its self.

The young man trudged to the nearby river and sat on its
banks dreaming of what could have been. It the end was
inevitable. He slid from the banks of the river to its
deep waters, he sank to the bottom where he met his end.
No one ever knew what became of him, thinking he had just
left, traveling to a far away world. But he sank to his
sorrow and misery at the bottom of the misery, in his hand
he clutched the ring he had chosen for his love.

The young woman returned home, time went home her parents
passed from this world her siblings grew up and married.
Until there was just one brother left, who never could
reach out and touch love either.
So they remained in the old farmhouse never speaking of the
past, each in their own world of sorrow.

And there the woman spent the remainder of her days
sewing cloths and taking care of her brother.
The sun went down each evening on her sorrow and
regret, wishing things had been different but the voices
whispered on. "You would have never been good enough,
just look at you" they'd say. She would nod and sew one
more stitch. Each day sewing the stitch to keep her broken
heart...in tact.

And some say, that she was the most beautiful woman to
have ever graced God's wonderful world. That God reached
down and touched her with the beauty of angels.
These words she never heard for everyone felt to foolish
to ever say them.

And some say, though I never knew for sure myself because
I never saw this woman. That her beauty never weaned, it
only grew more extraordinary by the day. I never knew her
real name because after many years everyone just called her
Sorrow. And the sorrow...was beautiful.

Oh Sorrow, how I cry for you.
I will never be you.

Fear only has as much power as you give it.


based on a true story.
Christa

Picture

I hide my face from you.
Yes you, the camera. I'd spend
the rest of my life behind the
lens then stand before it.

Occasionally someone will ask
for my picture and so reluctantly
I agree and I take my pose and
smile the smile I've rehearsed in
front of the mirror so many times.

I hate taking my own picture, I don't
like what I see. Its just not me.
My friends ask me why I never smile or
look at the camera, how do I explain to
them that I can't?

I've never desired to be the center of
attention whenever the camera comes out
it takes all of me to not throw my hands
over my face and beg you to not picture me.

They want to know why, and being unable to
tell them I let them take the occasional
picture of me. But the truth is, I'm afraid
you will see. A face tells a thousand stories

The eyes are the window to the soul, this
knowledge frightens me. I think to myself
"What if they see?" the safety wall I've so
carefully constructed crumbles when the
picture is shot.

And then after that its the prayers that no
one will see, that no one will see what I
see written there. Yes I'll admit it I'm a
fake, I'm a liar, I'm a sinner.

As Psalm 51:3 states
For I acknowledge my transgressions:
and my sin [is] ever before me.

But I know there's hope for me, I know
there's grace and I believe that.
But when your looking at me I start to
lose confidence, I lose my assurance that
grace really exists. These pictures I
see all that is there. Maybe you don't but
I'm so afraid you will.

So yes I look away, I place my rehearsed smile
and hope the camera doesn't work or the flash
covers up the fear in my eyes.
Please forgive me for not being honest sooner,
and don't look to closely. I could show you
hundreds of pictures that better describe me.

That describe my joy, my peace my happiness. But
none of those pictures are of me, perhaps one
day you will understand that, and I understand if
you don't. Yes I will continue to try and shroud
myself in mystery. I will cover my eyes, I will
look away.

I bound my words and thoughts in riddles and
lyrical bounds so as not to say to much. I
used to be told that I said to much. So slowly
over time I said less. My riddles and my rhymes
are all that's left to say. If you dare to read
between the lines to see what I'm saying, be my
guest. But I secretly hope you don't.

I have to go now. Someone wants to take my
picture..