Like A Soldier

You want a Relevant element

 I’m Dependent on the Sacrament

There’s just no comparison

my greatest weapon of self-defense

Im callin your bluff and its

It’s time to heal ya sin we’re exposin’ it

Your Phenomenal reticence

Longs for Innocence so adamant

And so we’re killin em drainin em

Slowly like a titanium

Bomb to the bottom

We tellin ‘em about Him

Lost souls we go get’em

Bring’em to the Throne of our Father

That’s why I’m his daughter

Reel ‘em in like a soldier

As your soul fights for exposure

The toll’s that of the greatest war ya

Will ever fight in your life

Its always a struggle and it startin’ tonight

and when you wake in the morning

and you feel the tug of the callin’

dont run from it applaud it

cause every soul will get audited

so your faith, don’t renounce it

better yet embrace it 

dont let your life get wasted

so when it’s the last call 

and ur friends are makin jokes

faith hope n love are all 

that will be left, nothing else, 

that’s all folks!

Clouds

late nights
stolen dreams
but the light
still shines within

and it seems
that through the seams
love will always burst through

the clouds gather
my joy scatters
and fear may settle
but there is always love

and it is steadfast
and constant
and pure

what are we destined for?
my eyes glisten
from the tears
and the hopes

because
through the clouds,
my eyes can still see...

and it is all thanks to You.

Like You

Let me take this second to introduce myself,
I am a human like you, no more no less,
I'm here to help clarify some misconceptions,
and bring back all Honor and Glory in His Direction.
See Life, this one we have, was designed with perfection,
but the One who designed it gaves us freedom of selection:
To choose what we choose and live how we may,
knowing that His Vicotry is without condemnation.
See, I can readily speak with no hesitation,
words flowing, thoughts in easy cirulation,
but the reason behing this is Capital-T Truth         for the Nations.
See, with Him, there is no End, just Eternal Salvation.
But that freedom of choice is what allowed us to bring in Sin and evil,
We exposed our own nakedness back in the Garden of Eden:
Shame and pin befell
Our own disobedience led us straight to Hell,
but uh, I don't know if you've heard:
There is hope. And it lies in the Word.
Peace of mind, free from all binds,
not caught in the sands of time,
we are liberated in divine grace,
So, Redirect your attention and come to face these lines from Scripture:
With Him , in Him, and Of him, be more like Him,
continue no sin, show Him that you Love Him.
For the Love of money and greed has got you deceived,
So, Love your Neighbor and your Enemies.
If we really believe or our eyes are beginning to see,
then the latter is the reality we need to perceive.

I've come to realize that nothing is more important than Him.
That this life I hold in my hands was once drowning in Sin,
But because He came, Died, Resurrected, and will come Again,
My life belongs in His hands, His Viictory: My Win.
And It's a shame some don't know his Name and everything he's done,
He's healed the blind and the lame, and He died to make you His Son.
But pfft, what Do I know? I'm just a Human Like you.
But wait, ! He saved my life, and that is some pretty good news...

Standing Time

Only time will tell.

Only Time will let us see if this is meant to be.

I know what I have to do,

and I know that you know what you have to do, as well,
but I don't know if you will have the courage to do it.

I think you will be a coward,
and I think you will keep making mistakes,
and whats more,
I know that even after more mistakes,
you will still want me,
but it will be too late.

So don't be a coward.
Stand up for what you believe in,
stand up for what you know is good,

for what you know is right.

Stand up and do not fall.
Stand up and rise above.

Stand up and show me
that you are courageous enough
and strong enough
to stand by my side
through it all.

Immobility in the Storms

I will make it through this storm--

although the winds are harsh and sharp against my wounds,
I will make it through whether you are there or not.

I can't turn off what I feel,
all the pain, the love, the pain,

the memories;

vivid in my mind
seared into my heart...
although
I scream inside, "No More!"--
what is there left for me to do?

I can't seem to move.

I close my eyes ,
but my heart can't forget your image
and my skin crawls at the thought of another.

Is this all there is for me?

Almost a prisoner,
without a desire to escape,
I can't seem to move.

Freedom

Betrayed
Beyond Repair
in more ways than flesh...
In spirit , in love,
all lies
just lies

A year to show me the truth
A year to pass by so I can see the truth;
the truth you were too afraid to tell.
But the truth always finds its way,

because "The Truth shall set you free"

and now,

because of the occluded life you lived,

that life of secrets that is no more,

I am free.

Freedom is Sweet--

for after the truth there is nothing left.

With nothing left, I can start to live

because now there is nothing to lose;

I have nothing to lose because you were never really mine,

Interesting that now you want to belong to me.

But, did you know--I don't want you anymore:

I choose my Freedom.

A Prayer

My heart aches...
My eyes have run dry
from all the tears I've cried.

My soul clamors

and bangs

against my ribs,

against

the pangs

of my aching life

I wish I did so many things differently

What are my options?
Life
or Death;
either one can occur in just one breath.

Pop the pills or
Cut the wrists
and watch as the blood
spills,
out and away from you
and then you're healed of this life
that only ever caused you pain.

From day one, alone;
To this day, the same,

will things ever change?

I run to You
but I don't feel You anymore;
I pray for an answer..

Please show me what to do

to ease this pain,
the pain that has always been
the pain that speaks 'goodbye'
the pain that shrouds my eyes...

I always run back to You.

Don't let me fade into the darkeness;

Give me the strength to put the knife away,

to tuck it away in the corner of the cold drawer,
where the silence of my heart
won't ever again yearn its sharp death.

Alone,

huddled in the corners,
between despair and hope;

Grant me the mercy of Your Love,
Show me the Truth, I beg You;
Help me always rise above,
Show me how to live in You,
before he sweeps down
and takes me away from You . . .

A Love Forgotten

Chest constricted
Words restricted
I almost remember what you said
Hearts evicted
Love convicted
Your memory sealed in my head

Air corrupted
So nostalgic
My heart refuses the light of day
Eyes hidden
Smiles forbidden
I can't, I just can't, if it goes on this way

A love so battered
My heart is shattered
Who can save me now?
You will hear the clatter
as my life goes under
No one can save me now.

Speechless Love

What is there to say when the miles in between our hearts are manifested more than just physically?
You tell me day after day that you ache for my presence, for my touch, for my kiss...
Yet, you deny me the right to any happiness because
you rip it all away the moment you ossilate in between the 'yes' and 'no';
Ofcourse, I should know better, because all you've ever been
is something in between a solid answer or a definite denial;
you've always been the middle ground that leads me nowhere.

How I wish that with every word I write, your spite and strife

your pain and might

would just erase themselves from my life...

How I wish that with every word I write, my joy my sanity

my love for humanity

would just blossom once more, out and away from your uncertainty...

How I wish that with every word I write, my soul and my eyes

my heart and my lies
would close themselves from you and breath in a new demise...

No matter how much distance comes between us,
no matter how much time seems to stand still
or how much time seems to prolong the process of healing,
there is still pain
there is still remorse
there is still regret

there is still uncertainty

No matter how much may change , you will always stay the same.
And I think I finally figured that out.

Away from your words, your heart, your touch, your kiss--a miracle has happened within my being; I want to be free. From you.

Flores Encantadoras

Tus Flores Encantadoras
Promesas llenas de fragancia;
Una suave brisa
que acaricia y embriaga

Aqui estoy desesperada
ajuntada y sellada,
con tu quemadura
fuerte de amor.
Aqui estoy respirando
el aire viejo,
y a lo lento
ya no siento
tu valor.

No sabes lo que me haces
quando no estas de cerca.
Quando no te escucho los pasos,
mi corazon no palpita.
Es porque me faltas tu
que la vida se me pierde.

Como al vidrio quebradizado,
estoy mirando un reflejo
que no es semejante de lo que fui.
Como al vidrio destrozado,
me miro y pienso
adonde se fue todo de mi.

Unge mi alma de tus promesas fragantes,
para que el llanto se aleje di mi corazon creciente,
para que el canto de un 'si' se une a mi;
para que el dolor y desafio no me paraliza en lo frio
para que el amor de mi vida se siente bienvenida
y todo esto a rodillas lo pido a ti.

Era blanca y pura
esa primera rosa;
Veremos si a los años
la encontraremos
igual asi...

Corazones Violados

Siento tanto dolor en mi ser.

Estoy dispuesta y desnuda a tu corazon,
o a lo que te queda de corazon;
porque ahorra solo reconosco los pedasitos delicados.

Un corazon
hecho tan frajil,
quebradizado
derrumbado
aislado
Violado...

Un corazon hecho
como la malla,
que no proteje
ni la puerta
ni la ventana;
hecho de lana
que no caricia
ni calienta,
ni sostiene.

Estoy dispuesta a ti,
para hacer lo que me pidas sin pensarlo dos veces,
y todo porque te quiero tanto.

Ahorra se lo que es sentir el dolor.
Ahorra se lo que es sentir el rencor,
Y ahorra se lo que es sentir la culpa.

Pero aqui me quedo sin duda,
esperando una luz,
o algo semejante,
para que yo sepa que todo lo mio,
y talves lo tuyo,
no se va a perder por el tiro de los vientos.

Vile Eyes

Mutual understanding is the key;

If I am in this 100% of the way,

but you're on the side lines with a 'nay'

or with a 'I don't know what to say,'
then just don't be with me.

I'm in the most beautiful place in the world;

I'm experiencing the best time of my life,
and if you feel like
all you can contribute is strife,
then by all means, don't get in the way,
don't waste my time.

I was excited, ,
elated,
and thrilled,
to see your face again,
to hear your voice again.
And yet all you could say was
nothing,
killing me a little inside again,
making my heart slowly die again.

Your grunts of disappointment,
your stories of missed appointments...
Your empty stares and forced smiles,
your eyes have now turned vile...

adding extreme negation,
subtracting from my mood of elation

And yet,
I'm diverging from your disease,
because you see, "I'm doing me,"
and this life overseas
does more than please;

And it does so
in more ways
than you ever could

Make me Free

A friend
who was not a friend
wound a cord around my flesh,
so deeply and mercilessly,
that it penetrated my skin,
and confined me to feel
intimidation
and fear.

& How interesting it is
that although I am
35,000 miles
away,
I can still feel
the deep-set marks
as they sit on my skin
and remind me
of the incisions
and briuses
on my heart
and my ego;
reminding me
of how I was held down
by the weight
of this ever-tightening cord.

Can distance stretch
and ultimately break
that tie that once held us so close?
Can distance fade
and ultimately erase
the photographs of our memories?

Can hours eliminate the guilt?
Can months erase the moments?
Can time put an end to the pain?

I am now miles away,
in a beautiful city
filled with the sights
and sounds
of culture,
and joy.
Yet, I am still worried
that upon my return,
my growth as a person
will fade
into the blackness,
into the cold,
sharp metals
of the cords,
as they intertwine themselves
with my being...

Can the distance
and the time

MAKE ME FREE

from that bond?

O, how I pray
that my GOOD BYE
showed you that
I am NO LONGER wound
to your whims.

I am free
and
I freed myself.

O, how I pray
that my GOOD BYE
shows you that
your tight grip
and endless demands
may end up choking
and killing
another
loved one
of yours.

Because they
still
are intertwined
with your
merciless cords.

Once Again

I believed our paths were not to cross
and yet,
just like a warm breeze that kindly caresses
and softly cradles the soul,
I saw your beautiful face again;
and your bright eyes
shone into my heart once again,
and they let me know
you still love me.

And because of that one look from you,
after what felt like a year of empty stares
from other empty, worthless eyes,
I am caught up again,
instantly;
sweetly seduced once again.

What am I to do?
Should I return to your heart,
that once felt so safe,
that may be safe to trust again,
that may prove to me that Love is worth waiting for?
Should I return to your arms,
that kept me warm during the cold,
that held me close when I felt so far,
that may protect me from all my fears?

Or
Should I depart from your sight,
and keep searching for a new horizon
for a new start...
for a chance to prove to myself
that I can stand firm alone.

Where is Love to guide me?
Where will Love take me,
if I let my heart reign again...

Once again,
my heart beats fast for you,
my eyes look only for you,
my hand is longing for your touch,
my lips are yearning for your warmth,
and my soul is waiting...
Once again,
faith, hope, and Love remain
and I am reaching out for an answer.

CrossRoads

What to do?
I do not know where to go from here;
This is a sad place: It is a sad place because I have always placed love on a pedestal,
making it the most important mission of my life. I only ever wanted love.

This is a sad place: A cross-roads where my heart is torn right down the middle, between everything I cherished and everything I Adore.

I know that both roads lead to Him, though one is narrow and direct and the other is wide and swerving. But my impatient heart can't bare how long both those roads are, and how long it will take to travel them.

The wide road has all of my past, including your memories and all our moments
and all our love-that-was; this road has all those moments visible and bare and exposed. And on this road, you are still there.

And yet the other road, the direct road, has all the same memories,
except over the agonizingly painful moments there is a Cross. This Cross has one highly-appreciated service: it blocks from my sight the pain, the loneliness, the torture.
But on this road, I also can't see the future.
So I am a scared.

I am torn down the middle.
My heart longs to travel the road of Crosses,
but I worry that you won't be there in the future.
I know that the road with my life’s memories, bare and naked and exposed, may still have you, but it doesn't have the future I long for; a future that shines bright because of God's curing and unending light.

It is a sad place because I have always placed love on a pedestal,
making it the most important mission of my life.
But now, Love is the priority; the Love of Christ and
by embellishing my heart in this True Love,
I am
drowning my sorrows
and trading them
for the safety of the Lord.

I hope you're at the end of the road with me, sharing in Love,
but even if you're not,
I'm starting my journey on the road with Crosses.
I am
going the distance
so that True Love
can be my only, direct guide.

So Great a Love

Irreconcilable fear: Be still my heart, Yet the pain continues to ache, Continues to bury my hopes

Come back my love. I need you to be there beside me because you anchor me; You hold me, You help me. I need you more than I need myself.

I hold a Love so true, a Love so great, and it’s all for you. Never would I have guessed that I would feel so strongly, so longingly, so honestly, so great a love. And yet I do. Here I am: Baring it all once again, and I fear that I may have made the biggest mistake of my life.

Please forgive me: Irreconcilable anguish. So much stillness when you’re gone, But my heart is not still; My heart won’t let me sleep. I yearn for my eyes to close, for a chance at bliss in my dreams, Yet my heart is not still and I still cannot sleep.

The hours choke my lungs strangling out the tears, and they come incessantly, viciously. I am held captive to the hours, to the lonely, miserable hours. They mercilessly cut into me, and I bleed sadness. Never would I have guess that I would feel so sad, so alone, so remorseful, because of so great a love.

I recount our endless, priceless memories. So beautiful. I ache knowing that there is a chance that all that beauty may disappear and leave in its wake darkness, only darkness. Please do not take away the light that makes me so happy.

So great a Love, you are so good to me. Please forgive me.

One more chance at Love is all I ask for. I will be good to you. I promise I will be good to you as sure as the sun will set on my past and a new sun will rise for our future. What a Glorious day that will be to see a newly rising sun; to see the meadows flourish and blossom with new daisies of tomorrows and forget-me-not’s.

I am waiting.

A Day in the Life of a Journalist

January 8, 2010

You see this world for what it really is
At last you see the shine and the grime the dumpsters and the buildings the gambling and the bidding of young executives and of prostitutes that have been in the business for too long You see the endless trash the cars whether they speed or crash the pedestrians as they walk even if they are doing it all wrong speeding and stopping halting and flaunting but they never do it right Next thing you hear are the sounds of the night the repetitive drawls of bus engines starting and breaking down the numerous shouts of drunk teens as they lose function of their motor skills the subtle quick inhalations of the smoker late for a meeting in town and the whispered prayers of the homeless as they hope to endure the winter chills
You read the headlines stories all just stories You read faces more stories to be told You read the nutritional information on the side of some menu there is no story there There are stories on the street but all you do is walk on
This morning I saw an accident Or the remains of the accident An ambulance in all its glory and the streets shouting a story There was Blood yet the doors to the vehicle were shut and I could not get Lady Gaga’s song out of my head but something inside knew the story before me would go on unsaid
You are now passing an electronics store with windows that run for miles and each television you can see has Tiger Woods and the list of his whores that runs for miles You see some people stop and stare and comment and shake their heads disapprovingly and you walk on that story should have been left unsaid
About one o’clock now your stomach grumbles and you hunger for a satisfying bite No need to fight the urge you want a burger a cheeseburger or maybe you feel wild and you want a double cheeseburger to surge in you and last until dinner later that night You know not to indulge though because the nutritional value of such a thing would be horrendous and you would then have to surrender to a gym membership Besides if you had that burger the homeless would still go hungry
You leave temptation and you are now on 10th An elderly woman is crossing the street and you feel like you should help and as you proceed you notice your shoe is untied and you let the moment of putting others first pass you by O why O why was your shoe untied at that exact moment in time She walked on leaving you behind and you are bent down tying and untying and retying and just tying away all your precious time
Now you walk on across the city to the riverside You pass by streets of stores just stores merchandise that are pointless and useless like a Snuggie as seen on t v or merchandise that are useful but unexplainably expensive like a pair of gloves or earmuffs You wonder whether you should buy some because of the winter chills you must endure It’s a test of endurance we all must face Yet you walk on
You pass by payphones and remember that talk you had with your grandfather when he was telling you about how in his day there were no such things as telephones so you had to make personal house calls if any story was to be told You pass by an empty shopping cart tied to a hydrant You pass by a pair of sneakers hanging from the telephone wires You pass by a bar and suddenly the street lights go on
From the street you can hear the roar of the soccer game as it plays on the flat screen t v inside the bar You can hear the grunts of disgruntled men who are sipping away their sorrows You can almost feel the pinches that the waitresses are receiving as they pass by the disgruntled men You see that one of those men happen to be a co-worker but you walk on because there is no story to share between you and him But a bar fight breaks loose and you are inclined to stay and see if there is a story
The chills the skills the town this place of no ups only downs this bar the lights shine eerily on the car you see you hear you feel the first punch the crack of the first jaw and the wobble in your knees This story might be one to please your boss But you walk on

You refuse to be a prostitute

a sad story

If I Love you Tonight

June 8, 2007

If I love you tonight, will you love me tomorrow?
Will you bring me happiness and take away my sorrow?
Will it be forever and ever; just like you promised me?
Will it be honest love: truly, madly, deeply?

If I say those three words, will you stay through the night?
Will you place my heart on wings, and fly me towards new light?
Will you kiss me with passion and new-found emotion?
Will you look into my eyes with affection and devotion?

If I looked into yours, would I see a sincere world?
Would you value me more than any priceless pearl?
Would you make an effort to always place me first?
And be my loving angel to protect me from the worst?

Will you let me be the only one
you dream of when you sleep?
And create cherished memories
that we will forever keep?

Will you be my hero, and stay through every fight?
Will you love me tomorrow if I love you tonight?

Can we be made New?

January 3, 2010


How can the person I love consider himself evil? I just had a long conversation with my supposed one and only true love and I was supportive with every bone in my body, as much as it pains my heart, but sometimes you just have to let go of your heart and find some love to give to them, because maybe, just maybe, they need it more. But is that stupid?

We are Christians, and we face a battle every single day. I pray and sometimes I don’t. He sins and sometimes he doesn’t. I love him and sometimes I despise parts of him. He loves me and sometimes wants to smack me, even though he doesn’t (and if there comes a moment when he does, I could never forgive him and I would leave him forever). We forgive and sometimes we don’t, and sometimes we judge others when we know we shouldn’t. But how can I cope when I feel like all my faith has done to me was help others and drain everything out of me, just so that they can have a deep, comforting gasp of fresh air? Where is my relieving breath?

And don’t think that I am saint or an angel, because believe me, I am not. I am jealous; more jealous than any person should be, as I am so jealous that sometimes I feel like taking a certain female and smashing her head against the wall, and then shoving pizza down her throat and watching her choke on the fat she doesn’t have, and this is all because my one and only true love finds her attractive.

Sometimes, I am evil minded. But I know that my sins and that my bad thoughts and my bad deeds come and go. But I also know that the good ones are harder to come by and when they do they make a lasting mark on your heart; It is easy to be bad but you got to work at it to be good. I also know (from my one and only true love) that a small good step can lead to another one.

When hearing the sins that trouble my one and only true love, I miraculously find these words coming to me, words that are so opposite to what I’m feeling: I am feeling hate and immense sadness knowing that what he goes through is something that I cannot really help him with, yet I am finding the words to let him know that I support him. It pains me though because I sit there and look into his beautiful eyes and as I see love and everything I could ever want, I am baffled as to how it is possible for my innocent, one and only, true Love to be corrupt. And the more I think about it, my support for him is verifiable. I actually do support him because I love him more than anything of this earth. I want him to change but to be honest, not for me. I want him to change for him. I want him to finally come across a computer and not once think about the sin that tempts him. I want him to be able to hold my hand and not have a wandering eye at the same time. (The second one is perhaps asking too much, because even I have a wandering eye sometimes.) I want him to grow in his faith and believe that he is not the evil; he is a sweet man with a good heart who just happens to do bad things sometimes. I want him to stop doubting everything and to finally have the confidence to realize that anything is possible if you just believe. I want him to be new. I want myself to be new. I want our relationship to be new. I want us to have a new start.

It is a new year of the earth. It is a new year in our relationship. It is a time for the next new edition of our devotionals. It is a new chance to begin anew. I know in my heart that there will be more times when sorrow creeps at unsuspecting hours and chokes my tears out of me. I know that there will be more times when sin slides under his door and forces his hands into a corrupt state. I know that there will be more times when temptation spreads our faith apart and opens doors that should remain closed until marriage. I know all these things but I keep praying for strength. And slowly but surely, my prayers will be answered because I know God is good.

I pray for God to make this New Year a real new start. I pray for us to want to change, to want to stray from sin and find solace in God’s grace, to support each other when we need it, to come to God when there seems like there can be no more support from each other, to trust that God will be there for us no matter what, and most importantly, I pray for me, for him, for us, to always keep trying and keep getting up no matter how many times we may fall. I know that God’s love is there for us to take if we so choose. And believe me, we choose to consume our beings with God’s love, but sometimes, it feels like such a stretch for our wavering arms and sometimes, it feels completely unable to grasp or sometimes it feels like it is completely gone. Sometimes, we lose sight of our faith. But I know that we just have to open our eyes again and see all the wonders of God’s love; Just wake up on a new day and have a new start.

We are able to change but what is more important is that we are capable of change. We are able to love but what is more important is that we are capable of love. We are able to receive God, but what is more important is that we are capable of receiving Him. What I truly realize is that sin is just a sometimes. But God’s love and grace and forgiveness and mercy and glory and majesty and power and salvation are a forever. With Him and in Him, there is always something new He does in our lives; we just have to be open to His will (If you don’t believe me, read it for yourself… Isaiah 43:18-19).

*Image provided by: http://ysanames.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/white-rose1.jpg

Words of A Minor

December 27, 2009

Have you ever read something so utterly amazing that it leaves you with a sense of inadequacy? I feel as though I do, more than I should, especially since I should be writing amazing essays; I should be coming up with these grand questions concerning human life and express them so eloquently and so magically that whomever were to read them would end up in a drawl of the mouth and in a speechless breath.

I read something today that made me feel unworthy of this blank page, at which I dabble my fingers furiously against the keyboard in order to make any sense out of the once infinite emptiness susceptible to infinite possibilities. After reading a young lady’s words and thoughts, as they were filled with fervent passion and intense intimate concerns, I was inspired to do just the same. I thought to myself, How can I call myself a writer, when her words, as seven years my minor, exist?

These moments of doubt spear my heart, spear my hopes and dreams—all dramatics aside—and I feel as though I have been challenged, not by her writer but by my writer. I have been challenged to think thoughts that I have never thought possible; I have been challenged to displace any notion from the immensities of my brain onto the availability of a page—yet, to do so would require me to reconsider my notions.

I have said that I have so many things to say, and that all a writer could ever ask for is for someone to read them, and to care about them, and to ponder over them as they have been placed out into the world. Yes, I have said that. But what happens when I read the works of another? I should feel inspired. I should be saying to myself, Jeez, look at that; Now that is true artistry of words. I want to share in that ease of language. However, as I sit here in my chair, I am bombarded with negative instances and find myself doubting my abilities, How can I ever write? How can I face this page knowing that there is better art to be made than my own?

I have always been self-conscious. I have never truly had a good sense of self-esteem, let alone a high self-esteem. I was an obese child, and adolescence never was kind to fatties. I remember in sixth grade that I had the biggest crush on this once cute boy—although now he is an insignificant fish-faced man (haha!)—and on this very hot summer day, I was so inclined as to place my long hair into a ponytail, and as I did, he passed by me and gave me the dirtiest look, laughed at me, and said matter-of-factly that I looked so ugly. Now, I know I am not “ugly” as I do take care of myself, but at the age of eleven, words like that can dismantle any young girls’ ambitions, and for the rest of that summer, I always had my hair down, trying to cover my ugliness.

Sometimes, my eleven-year-old self comes back to life and finds a home in my aging soul. Sometimes, I feel “fat”—in the sense where I am useless, worthless; that nothing I am, nothing I say, nothing I do, can ever contribute to this beautiful universe. But that is only Sometimes. One day, however, I know that with my own children, I never want them to undergo any hints of inadequacy. I want them to strive forward, to embellish their dreams and aspirations, to climb up and over any obstacle they are presented with, and to know that they are never alone—for the love of God, parents, and family, is always helping them along the way.

I want them to find the power of their words; to know that what they have to say is most definitely worth saying. I want them to crave an empty page, or an empty science project board, or an empty diorama box, because in that emptiness the echoes of their thoughts can be heard and the manifestation of true art—as it applies to individual sense of worth—can come alive. I want them to realize what has taken me years of struggling and hurt and pain: you are great just the way you are

As I sit here, letting these notions slip from my mind through my fingertips, making a harsh tapping sound with every press against the keyboard, I realize that my harsh tapping sounds are my melody of thoughts. My words may be choppy, my words may flow like beautiful streams, my words may light up a thousand smiles, my words may furrow ten thousand brows. I write furiously, I write with passion. I write quickly and without ease and without stop until the very end of my last period on the page. And that is okay. I may have questions that will never be answered and I may have answers that may never want to be heard. I am doing this for me, I am striving to forget who I was, and to find who it is that I am and who I want to be. I can face this now full page, and call myself a writer.

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