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..

Human

How do you break through someones
defense's. To get through their
walls to who they really are. I've
ask myself this question so many times
about you. I thought at first if I was
just your friend eventually there would
be a break in defense and yet nothing.


Maybe I need to wait longer I understand
don't misunderstand me I'm not giving up.
Your a mystery I want to understand and
I'll wait a lifetime if I have to, just to
discover whats underneath. I prayed for you
one day, I went to my knees and begged
protection over you. I don't know why but
I wanted you to be safe.

Your defense's are shrewd and cunning they
are alot like mine. Perhaps that's why I
stay. I've found someone just like me in someways
saying everything and nothing all the time.
Maybe that's why we're friends because we both
understand that we are so much alike and yet
neither one of us is willing to drop our guard
for the other.

Eventually a time will come where we will either
destroy each other or help each other.
Our defense's our similar our words are sometimes
perfectly synced. We've both rehearsed the words
the expressions the topics, covering every basis
so no one ever sees, so no one ever gets in.
We are pros at what we do but we're not proud of
that. Because it leaves us in a very lonely box
we've encased ourselves in letting few people near
enough to see.

I don't know if I'm a mystery to you as you are to
me. But that's ok like I said I'll wait a lifetime
to figure you out, even if I get a small glimpse
I know it'll be worth it. I wish I could tell you
that you can trust me but I can't do that because
words are never enough. Promises are words falling
like snow, soon to melt and fade away. All I can do
is just try to prove it to you.

We'll figure each other out someday once we drop this
charade and burn our masks and see the other as not what
we pretend to be but what we are.

Human


Picture taken by http://surrealeye.deviantart.com/

From Your Convenient Best Friend

Dear You

I'm not perfect
I'm not made of stone
though I'd like you to
believe I am. You stand back
and you judge me saying there's
no hope but you never even tried.

I'm not as hard as I've made you
believe. I've learned few people
really want inside. And the others
just want your ear and presence so
they don't feel alone. But little
do they realize how alone their leaving
me.

I've grown used to it, its no big deal.
Hurt me and I'll survive I'll get over
it. Hurt my friends, hurt the people I
love even though they don't love me, and I'll
be out for revenge I promise you.


No I'm not made of stone but I'm made of
the will to survive, to make it through
your blows and your words. I'll survive
what you all do to me, its ok I understand
why you do it. Your insecure and you don't
understand me, so your best way of handling
it is by attacking me and blaming me for the
state of your life.

Your angry because I understand, your angry
that I don't blame you. You don't love me and
that's fine, I can deal with that.
Sure I'll be your best friend at your convenience.
Sure I mind that you take no thought of my feelings
or my pain but that's ok I've grown used to that.
So go ahead, hate me, yell at me, tell me I'm stupid.

Nothing will change I'm not letting you in until you
prove I can trust you, don't hate me for my choices
if you knew the reasons you might understand, then
again maybe not because your to selfish to ever see
anything but your own pain.

But anyways I really should go, you have need for my
ear again. I won't cry over this loneliness I feel its
quite alright because remember...I'm made of stone right?

I laugh at that because you really don't know.
Anyways.

Sincerely
Your Convenient Best Friend
Christa




(picture by http://day-light.deviantart.com/)

goodbye for now

Dead air is mine, dead air is me.
I want to say the words but when
my mouth opens my words
freeze in my throat and are soon
lost victims of the wind.

If i really had the courage to say
what I truly thought it wouldn't
be what you expect. What I say and
what I think are two very different
things.

What I hate I will never debate because
I know it is never worth the fight to
the death for it. If I could show you
what I see you'd understand it to, you'd
understand the reason's why I keep my
peace. If you could only understand that
the things that cannot speak have the
loudest voices.

I've learned this so well because we have
been close companions. Silence is the
loudest microphone, watching is the best
piece of literature you could ever pick up.
Listening to nothing is the prettiest music
ever written. I wish I could show you, if
I could just paint a picture, or write the
notes of the music I hear, or pen the novel
of the words whispered to me.

But it's impossible, when I begin to write
my mind cannot put into words what I hear.
It's something you cannot confine to paper
or to our callus string of musical notes.


Something I discovered long ago was that
words should never be spoken unless carefully
considered. Silence always considers it's words
very carefully, the silence never speaks unless
you are listening, truly listening, and the
it whispers.

The quieter I become the more I discover. The
more I don't speak the clearer things become to
me. Occasionally it is lonely but I never think
about going back.

Because I now see the dreadful truth of speaking
the dreadful truth of lying, the dreadful truth
of conforming instead of discovering.
It's impossible to return, sometimes it's beautiful
sometimes its down right terrifying, but it's
taught me to think of every single thing I say.
Every single thing I wish
Every single thing I love.
Every single thing I pray.

I know you are confused now, what I've said has
completely lost you. I knew it would, because
you see you have to stand on this side of the line.
The sidelines, its all right here, but you will
never understand until you come and stand with me
and see, instead of being the observed come be the
observer. It will save your life, I promise you.

Stop playing the game, and come and learn the rules,
no not their rules, the real rules. The rules that
the game creates while your playing, you'll be playing
along and never realize they've changed, but I do
because I'm watching instead of running blindly.
You'll never leave the game though, none of you will
because to you I'm the naive child who knows nothing.
You'll play and play till it kills you, and I'll
grieve for you...because I warned you.

Come to my side and you'll see it to.


(picture by http://fibulamim.deviantart.com/)