Lost PiecesĀ 

The worst part about losing yourself is not the process in which you dress yourself in every kind of darkness and go to foreign places that beckon the other side of you…

 No, it’s the constant thought of:

 “Will I ever get those pieces back?”

The Runaway Clay

I lied to you because the moment was right.

I said I would give you every bit and piece of myself, but the truth is,

I’m storing some in my soul just in case you get frusterated with the puzzle.

I’m sorry for being a wanderer. And a doubter. And a confused little child. 

I mimick the road I see instead of the destination of glory.

It’s a habit I’m trying to break,

Along with all the other chains.

But I guess that’s my problem.

I take my problems into my own hands and try to stitch things together with a makeshift sewing mechine and clumsy fingers. 

My clammy palms always cause me to slip up and nearly mess up the masterpiece… 

I have learned to run back into my arms when the unknown is a bit of a jump. 

But,

I am the clay.

I need to learn to be still as I am being molded. 

Open Road šŸŒŒ

If I could, I’d drive a long stretch of the highway and keep driving until something caught my attention. In the car would be music that thumps in my chest and spills lyrics on my tongue. I’d turn on a slow jam just as the sun begins to set. I would draw out that moment and breath the crisp air of the birthing night. Windows down, hollow sounds. Once night drapes it’s arms around the sky, the music would reflect darkening excitement. Music and open road. No thoughts of home or destination. Just the rumbling of the base and the overflow of words that mean all too much to me. 

Seven Times Seventy, I Still Rise.Ā 

Again

I will rise

Though the target is

Cut into my back

And my strength seems to be

Dwindling…

And the thorns in my side

Have come alive

And the dark days

Have come back to devour

I keep moving to the beat of

Gods love

I keep marching on

Pressing on

To claim what’s rightfully mine

Because my father sits on a throne

And so I am heir to a king,

The king. 

The fall comes at a price

That he has paid

Again

And again

Times seven,

I rise.

This end has to be a good one,

This journey has to greet the heavens

I have to win

You see,

I have been set up for victory.

Though the demons know where to dig their nails into,

My father knows where to heal, where to patch up, where to strengthen

So you see,

He is unstoppable,

Therefore,

So am I.