1. I sit alone. I am not lonely. I hear them talking. I do not listen. I feel no love. I do not hate. I cannot sit still. I am content. I am a reject. I belong.
2. Sometimes I feel eyes on me.
3. Imaginary names that we answer to become real. For it seems that this is Heaven, and real is not ‘reality’ where I stand. Finally at peace with my soul in this new place, with my imaginary name.
4. I watch the worn monuments, representing lives, and wonder, will you have one soon? When I pass this garden of death, will a cold stone bear your name? Will it steal your identity along with these forgotten souls? You’ve stopped writing me letters. I hate guessing if you’re still alive or
5. I received a gift once- a rose. It was so beautiful that I showed it to everyone. One day, someone pointed out that it was dead, and I clutched so desperately to that last shriveled petal that it crumbled in my grasp.
6. I’ve missed your face and your warm embrace, as you take me in your arms where I’m content to be. I’ve missed your eyes, laughing with me; so kind, so haunted, and so vulnerable. Now you’re here in front of me, and I’m at a loss at what to do. My well-planned speech has gone to Hell, and all I want is to have you back.
7. God has been breaking the chains holding me down. The hate is gone. The sin, going. I ask and then, only then, am I gratified. I am almost free. But one last chain is left, holding me captive. It stretches enough for me to get higher. One day it will break, and I will be FREE.
8. I found myself straining to hear something, for I caught a measure of celestial music as I prayed in the courtyard. My ears leaned towards the melody I envisioned the angels playing on their gilt instruments. A song, carried on the wings of the breeze.
9. They respected me with certain awe, and a taboo subject was addressed. My pains were shared and honored by those who were fooled into believing they were my peers. And when I told them about your death, they mourned with me. And when I told them about our age, they laughed. “You teenagers can have each other. We’ll hum you a Hanson song.”
10. I will forget your name. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I cannot say it. You want me to bear all of this alone, and ask prayer for an anonymous friend? I only told them your name. I know that wasn’t what you wanted, but I’m just not strong enough. They have probably forgotten it. Is that what you want? For everyone to forget you? I would obey you regardless of the pain of losing you, but I am ever faithful and yours.
11. And me? I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent. I’m innocent.
12. We are all metaphors for God. The words fled from their two-dimensional prison: “REJECTION OF SIN”
13. You asked me who you were and expected an answer. How I could possibly know is a little odd to me. I don’t know you at all, really, and yet you’re content to die with me, and share with me the secrets you have in your heart. But you, you don’t know me. You don’t know anything. You don’t know the past, you don’t know the pain, and I can’t change.
14. That word which I cannot utter is betrothed to that word which I choose not to say. I have faith in one, and find only pain in the other. I may not say your name. I must forget. It stabs me in the heart with the letters of its LOVE. This love that makes us bleed that makes me cry. I won’t believe that two things so dissimilar can both cause equal pain.
15. The apple will be red with a brown stem. The girl will be blonde, and pretty; she must be pretty. Grass is green not purple. The eyes are ugly, color them shut. Color over them. The girl is too fat. Draw her thin. Yes. But what is that? Are those tears? Color over them. Yes. Stay in the lines. Very nice. You know I love you, why do you ask? NO! Can’t you do anything right? Draw the pretty girl with a smile. Pretty girls don’t frown, and frowners aren’t pretty. See how Mommy does it? Yes, like that. That’s the girl I love. Her teeth are crooked, fix that. There, now, doesn’t that look nice? Stay in the lines! And you wonder why you don’t have a boyfriend! Oh, never mind. Maybe your sister will pick it up.
16. In a dark void. There is no light, and thoughts stab you in the heart- loneliness, rejection, worthlessness reside where anarchy is order and taunting, plaguing, festering words (or lack thereof) tell you you’re falling, falling, falling…
17. How can such sadness come from such a happy child? so much vulnerability from a strong façade and so many lies that never escaped out of silence? If you lie enough to others; if you say “I am happy. I am fulfilled. I am content.” just maybe it will come true. Maybe, someday, the lie I am living will disappear and become truth instead of misguided fantasy.
18. Rotting corpses with neon blood dripping on the sidewalk under these feet. The smell of decaying mortar hangs in the air with metallic stench. Emaciated felines drink contaminated fluids from the ditch here, and filthy winos let their lives become their deaths. Skeletons reach to the heavens in chains, selling their souls to an unseen force. Downtown is a lovely place.
19. The Sun of the World is the Son of Man; it warms and comforts. Some hide away, some turn from it, and some stare it in the face. AND IT BLINDS THEM.
20. I get tired of looking at the green grass and rusted metal. I wish to close my eyes and wrap my mind in peaceful darkness- oblivious to the outside world. I am tired of sunshine and concrete, cloudless skies and asphalt. I can hide in darkness, and living becomes a benign thing; unnecessary and pathetic.
21. This face I cannot see does not bring me joy. These written words bring no comfort. But shame has become my reality; knowing that you love me and knowing I don’t even believe in love, much less believe that someone else would waste such a Grace on me. And my heart does not feel. And my soul is not interested in this love. And I.
22. Please don’t talk to me about what it was like when you were my age. Peer pressure does not exist- those are just weak people being influenced because they have no spine. I choose, regardless of what everyone else is interested in.
23. What is so wrong with me- am I that ugly? I guess I should be used to it, by now. I mean, this is not the first time. And when his smile melted my heart, in one brief second I believed in love at first sight. Until I saw that he was looking at you. I am hopeless.
24. A study on irony: “I used to be somebody!” (triumphant and nostalgic)
25. It’s the only thing that will take away the pain- cure same with same. It is also the only thing that separates me from God, and I should not be in this Holy place with this unholy body with these unholy thoughts. I deserve to eat shit and rot.
26. There is NOTHING remotely funny about it. It is a disease, it is a plague. It is not a joke. There is no “good side” to depression. Maybe you do not understand. Maybe you do and need to hide, but I will not waste my time with you. You are not real anymore.
27. I am so scared of getting close to someone. My defense- these games, manipulate my true emotions. And these lies take over and drive my heart away.
28. I can’t change.
29. To be secretly in love with you is the most wonderful and awful thing. I’d rather pretend that love is not there and to ignore it, than to tell you and get my heart broken, once again. So it is not there, it is not there, it is not there…
30. Pain has brought me from sin to God, for He is my only hope. And when I saw Jesus, all open arms, and the child that was me being wrapped in those loving arms that had been waiting, waiting, waiting for me. Peace and pain, but love.
31. I only wish for everything to be completely opposite.
32. The sweet silver kiss of a thorn upon flesh reminds us of how dangerous beauty is. And as the bud sings its death songs to your veins, we yearn for that time when we were innocent and the world was new and fresh each day. Just as it crowns you, so shall it crucify you.
33. I read my yearbook and realized my friends all wrote that they’d miss me “so much,” and not even my best friend of eleven years has bothered to call me. The extremes seem to have little meaning now. They should have written, “I’ll think about you when I’m not high or fucking.”
34. Two bodies meet in perfect unity, meant to be since the beginning of time. I want him. His lips- altars upon which I am placed, and his passionate, impatient hands arousing thoughts and desires I never knew I had, drinking me in until we consume each other in a fire so hot it never dies.
35. I’m one of the few ‘privileged’ to know that you are dying. We’ve both made mistakes. Mine was sinning, yours was living. You don’t blame God, like I do, and in two years I’ll still be here. The shame will pass when you pass on. While you lay dead, pain will live. How many more full moons? How many more “I love you’s?” How many more letters will I receive with your signature? Both fighting something we can’t see; yours inside your body, mine inside my soul. Demons of disease trying to take us both from our faith. Stealing from the Healer. They will not prevail.
36. I love being naked in the dark, outside. Saxophones courting pianos in the background of dark morning. Immersed in forgiving water that soothes our spirits and troubled minds, and Love rules the moment. Dark eyes, ever so innocent, and not-so-innocent lips name unholy prayers. Glistening bodies meet in a tangled mass of arms and legs. Wandering hands give in to temptation, and temptation gives in to wandering hands. I just want to be loved.
37. It hurts so much to believe in love when love doesn’t favor you, but pain becomes a twisted addiction. Living in a loveless world, where it feels so good to hurt so bad- why is it so easy to fall back into that bittersweet emotion which causes as much anguish as it does ecstasy?
38. I hide them in my contact case, so no one will suspect. They’re big and hard to swallow, but I know I need them. Today I cut myself with a razor blade instead of burning. It didn’t hurt at all. I bleed tears because I cannot cry, anymore. I have to let them out; blisters are not enough. Fire does not cleanse like metal through flesh. If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off. If your eye causes you to sin, cut it out. (The more you take, the less you feel.)
39. In my pain I cry to You, and You turn Your head. I reach for the heavens only to see the doors slam shut in my face. And I did not look up for long. In my rage, I neglected to see the tears running down Your face as You leave Your child, whom You love, alone. As part of Your plan. I understand. And I forgive You, Father.