Concave Down

Jealousy. Anger. Slight anger. Resentment. Disappointment. A misunderstanding. A let down. A welling that leads to a falling. Having the floor swept out from beneath you. Concave down. A strangely bitter sick feeling in my lower stomach. The breakdown of a build-up. The catch to anticipation. More slight anger. And loads more jealousy.

Wow, I said that it was okay. That I was fine and didn't care. But whoever said that was a mask; a charade to distract one from the inner tantrum. I don't like feeling like this... get over it, Luke. Maybe next time, alright? Maybe next time.

Opportunity vanished,
so this sets in.

Your Son would have never acted like this.

A Build-Up in the Breakdown

Hey there.
Its me again.

Is it sad? Sad that I only drag myself to You when I mess up? Though that seems frequent I know that it can never be enough. But here I go again, and I'm just chasing You down again. And chasing skin again. And hitting a brick wall at some hundred miles an hour, coasting on nothing but a mundane and morally undefined wind tunnel justly titled the world. I'm slowly approaching speeds I just canNOT cope with. You know whats going on and you know how my mind is meandering. You try so deperately to show me how and I say "no". I try to cup my problems in my hands and hover over them everytime Your eye sweeps by. And by not keeping this cycle an honest one, or at least an open one, I kill myself inside. Scar tissue gets so weak that little nicks that would formerly unaffect me now cut me the deepest. Do you see? Do You see? What I'm holding is a torrent of knives. So for now, I'll run. Waging everything I've had. Staking all the heart I've shown. Father, annoint my indescion. Can you break lines between eyes and minds? If I'm going to act 'in human nature', can it not be in Your son's? For He was human also! I can take heart, for He overcame the world. But I'm letting the heart seem so insignificant, when in reality it is what I value the absolute most! There was a layer between and I tore it away for my own earthly crave, and I cry out for You to rebuild layers thicker and harder to peel than ever. I thank You so incredibly much for this terrible thorn in my side that jostles every time I consider that beaten freeway. In my rush to be seated, You kept me on my feet and standing and proving that You wouldn't give up so easily.

I have recieved this gift with eyes that pull flowers just like the sun. With a persona resembling thousands of reflected, colored lights. With a smile that radiates to steal glory from the sky. With a soft heart that is so difficult to not absolutely fall for. With a grace that, bar none, becomes the most beautiful thing I have ever seen every time my sight meets it. With a love that grows, endures, satisfies, fills, resonates... yeah, what a gift...

...but then I do things like this,

proving that I am as unworthy to hold the gift

as any of the gifted before me.

I don't want to cut the string. I don't need to untie the ribbon. This box is so perfect to me just the way it is. Crafted so beautifully, as if it were taylored to my liking. But it may not be, as much as I will hate to admit it. So I leave this intact, and above all, I cherish this present as if to never be brushed by a faulty touch. I'm working on this. I am working on this. I'm aimlessly missing and failing while you have had all of this time to prepare. Forgive my indecision, I am only a man. I don't want to be swept away into an ocean of 'the same mistakes'. To be honest, I want to be that island amidst the ocean where you find the rest of your life. But I have to let Love in before I can promise you much more than I already have. But I am so scared of being another that I start to fit that mold. That limit where a man either is buried or can take up his own and make a difference... and I want to be that difference. So badly. And if Jesus doesn't dance on my breath, how can I expect to be ANY different? I'm not losing you... I'm too blessed to faulter now. Just too lucky to consider throwing beautiful things away...

Lets dismantle this and let the heart piece it back together.

Incomplete Segment

draft

A stream of conciousness will not do because I'm all too unconcious and distant from You.

You Can't Stop the Ocean
You can't stop the ocean
You're better off chaisng wind
Can't stop the ocean

You can't stop emotion
You might as well give up now:
Share your emotions.

You can't save the world-
You might as well change the past.
Can't save the world.

You can't have everything.
You might as well envy God.
Can't have everything.

You can't live forever
You might as well face that now
You won't live forever.

You're not a stranger
He knit you together and knows your heart
You are no stranger.

We have limitations,
if you buck up and take it now,
you'll dodge the ocean.

You can't stop the ocean
You might as well chase the wind.
Can't stop the ocean.

Fleeting Image

Far too stressed by your own creation

to be my creation

You're too preoccupied by your own reflection

to be my reflection.

Hate finds you wicked

and turns you a victim

to numbers and others alike.

Reaching for a fleeting image

Hurting for a dying cause

Cry out, just sight loud.

You'll get what you ask for.

Now alter the fears that drive the tears.

Lets just hope that you can keep the truth down.

[Awaken]

Can't you see that I had a plan for you,

A book for you?

Now run to me, run to me.

Don't curve your eyes. Run to me!

Such disposition

to what has been given.

This vision should change one last time.

Reaching for a fleeting image

Hurting for a dying cause.

Cry out, just sight loud.

You'll get what you ask for.

Now alter the fears that drive the tears, that drive...

He bled so you could handle this,

but that you don't just kills me.

[Are you there? Is all of you there?]

I've seen it: we're all faulter prone,

but He died so we could change that.

[Are you there? Is all of you there?]

Reaching for a fleeting image.

Hurting for a dying cause.

Cry out, just sigh loud.

You'll get what you ask for!

Now alter the fears that drive the tears, that drive...

Lets just hope that you can keep the truth

[keep the truth]

down.

He bled so you could handle this,

and that you don't just kills me.

I've seen it: we're all faulter prone.

Awake in you.

Beacon

If its off the beaten path, so be it.

I'd walk through fire just to see Your face.

And if I can't see where I'm going...

I'll keep on walking now, I'll keep my faith.

I'll make Disciples for You.

I'll carry my cross, and hang on it too.

I'll burn for You.

I'll die to myself!

You won't need me in the way,

but in Your Will.

Remove my face and replace it

with Your Grace.

If its off the beaten path... so be it!

I'd walk through fire just to see Your face.

If yesterday is gone, then tomorrow

is sure to shine with guiding lights.

[You know] I'll make Disciples for You

I'll carry my cross, and hang on it too.

I'll burn for You

I'll die to myself!

You won't need me in the way,

but in Your Will.

Remove my face and replace it

with Your Grace

Take me from the path

that leads to 'normalcy'.

Yeah...

Take me from the path

that leads to 'normalcy'.

I'll make Disciples for You.

See holes in my hands and burdens sent through

I'll burn for You.

I'll die to myself - You don''t need me in the way,

but in Your Will...

Remove my face and replace it with Your...

Remove my face and replace it with Your...

Remove my face and replace it with Your

Grace.

Resolve

Shadows set the mood

Innocence left the room...

and all I know to do is shed a tear for you.

Please don't be ashamed whether you win or lose,

I just want you to know that I'm proud of you.

Don't be afraid when your fight is through,

I just need you to know that I'm here with you.

I can't watch you choose

to pour salt in your wounds,

now all I know to do is say a prayer for you

Please don't be ashamed whether you win or lose,

I just want you to know that I'm proud of you!

Don't be afraid when your fight is through,
I just need you to know that I'm here with you!

--10 Years, "Proud Of You"

This isn't just happiness, or excitement, or resolved anticipation. No, this is so much greater. This is a revelation all its own. Can words describe? If they can then I don't want to hear them, because they cannot compare - for this is God. Will the turning of one single gear ignite the spark of a life-sized mechanism? Has the broken bone healed so that the crutch may be tossed aside for good?

God only knows!

[L]et [O]ut [V]ines [E]ntangling.

I wonder, is this it? Are the depths of my soul truly calling out or am I far more shallow than I percieve? Are your words more truthful than my mentality? Is ignorance bliss? Does ignorance even play a part of this? Was my past experience not tough enough to use as a guideline? Is this how it feels? Is this how it feels for me to willingly embrace your faults and love them all the same? Is this how it feels to have an ochestraic type of confidence harmonize with my every word as I speak it from the entirety of my heart? Is this how it feels to be emotional with every fiber of my being? Is this what they try so hard to explain but can never quite right? Is this what we long to feel by the end of our breath called life? Am I feeling it? Is this me realizing that you wear your canyoning sides beautifully? Is this me saying that what you put into me is a nearly unrivaled warmth? Is this a reminder that everything will be fine? Is this selflessness?

Please.
Please believe me.

Sad Happy.

So...
Come.
Come sit with me, my fickle friend.
Upholding this promise unto the end.
Words, words, words... you know what they do.
Hollow me out as my insides go blue.
No new skin breathes as this scab lives,
and a scar will take as the vessel gives.
Leeching from veins that are tied to the heart.
You are the bullseye and my desire a dart.

Chances slim,

situation dire.

The silence will sit,

with twin iris on fire.

Bruising black,

beaten not broken.

Just take my hand,

hearing words unspoken.

Rubbing raw my own wounds,

I ask you to not wear them.

But will shed tears upon yours,

as if salt will repair them.

I may be slipping, or I may have lost.

But I would save your skin at any cost.

What do you pray when every heartfelt sentiment you scream in your head goes unacted upon? I don't blame You, I am in love with You, and I know how real Your prescence and Your grace is, but why is it that the words I find myself repeating so often and with such a welling in my eyes fall from my lips, shattering as they hit the ground? No worries, You hear them. Do You? Do You hear my silent facade? The answer must sit on the horizon. It must sit, suspended upon the nature of the wind, carried freely away from my hands moments before I can wrap around it. I will not be decieved. I will not be provoked. I will not play the blaming game. In due time I suppose, an element not worth fighting. Hush the storm, bring the cloud from her mind and the rain from her home. For in spite of her will, she is not ill. She is shining. Wake her in the dead of night and remind her that she is beautiful. Under the skin lies a story that deserves a happy ending, so may this be the climax - the true turning point. Shed brilliance, for I haven't the light to see the road ahead. But just enough to see her. And there's bright enough.