I AM...

I am whatever YOU think I am until YOU get to KNOW me. This is true for everyone else too, of course.. so don't make assumptions about anyone or pass judgment; ask questions. You might just make a new friend.


Saturday, June 10, 2006


What am I supposed to do when I find my heart untrue? I am betrayed everyday, causing myself to fall apart and my bones to crack. What am I supposed to say when time eats away? Hour after hour, night after day; cheating my soul as I grow old and cold? Who am I supposed to love if I can only love for a minute? Tick, tock who can I care for if I’m always one foot out of a door? What defenses do I use to heal this heart? What ointment can cure a sore so un-pure? Is there someone near who is listening, who can hear? Please dry the tears of my heart and right my wrong, pick up the fragments of my soul. Or am I doomed to always be only half of what I say and see? Why not take all of me instead of leaving half of me. He left me to go through this life all so lonely, searching for the rest and then you go and take the best half that I have to offer. How can I show my face to another when you have robbed me? Now I am like all the others; incomplete and lost…Who will roam the maze of life with me? Who will warm my heart? Who will sooth my temper on days afire? Who will boost my ego with desire? Pieces of us are intertwined, I am lost on what yours and what is mine. Somewhere in the twist, I have lost my motion, momentum dispersed in a sad convulsion. Now all seems silent, no resuscitation, I could hear my heart’s fluttered palpitation; I looked at you with a blank gaze, wondering from where had come this haze. All I am left to do is to lie, by his side and cry everything has burned and perishing before I could grab the water and extinguish the blaze, so went our love…Rock my thoughts like a lullaby, because I am frozen in place, and torn inside. That’s when I realized that he killed me! The Day…I Died was the happiest day of my life, only I didn’t know it then. All I knew was that I wasn’t the wisdom and guidance of God's perfect plan I didn’t take in quiet breathes, I didn’t experience the presence of inner wisdom…The direction of my heart! I never listened, I was always fighting myself. I wasn’t in perfect harmony with my purpose in life…Unable to release the fear of the future, the guilt of the past. Because of death, I will have to gently release my thoughts of the future or the past, knowing that I have everything I need in the moment. I will experience the perfection of this present moment. This is the only time I sense God's love and that the future will take care of itself because the past has already been forgiven. I have to live my renewed self, in joy and completeness. I wish that I could reject the notions that have shaped my life. I now have faith in no one on earth but me, so I’ve learned how to dry my own tears, I’ve figured out how to last each day with my wanting him and not having him in any way. I wish I could rid every part of me of him and the hypocrisy that I have created. I want to close myself to the world; I have found that solace is comfort to my tattered soul that now only desires to grow old. I wish someone explain why I feel this way, how can I break apart like sand at the beach? Can God tell me why he put me here? Can I gain some clarity before I disappear? What are the reasons for all of this? Leaving me praying for him to do it like he did before, praying for a door to open that is now shut; I want to pass over this threshold. Mentally I keep throwing and tossing, hoping he will catch, but these notions never play out in real time- yet I can't let go of my childhood dream, to wake up one day in a world unseen, with sun and sky showering my face and a love unlike any other to decorate the place. But, he doesn't exist anymore, so at night I hope robbers come and snatch my love and twist it, contort it, toss it out of my window. So that I can have some peace; all I can think of are the beautiful rhythms and dreams. I don’t want love to mutate into hate. My mind in overdrive: time has found me miles in doubt, and now I mistrust. Isn’t it funny to have a mind, alive, while days pass by, seeding a hate, with nowhere to go, but out, disguised…as love?


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