In my way

you understand everything
The way I feel when I’m alone
What dreams may come in sleep
swallow me up
Whole
So there is nothing left
Do you know who I am
I can feel your breath
Under my skin
Inside of my walls
Beaming down
Only one barrier sticks out
Childishly Erected
Like scribbles on a page
It stands in my way

Where I live

There is a tuft of green grass
I'd like to sit there
sit and think

Erosion

You were like a god that walked upon the earth
Worshiping your every move, I clung to your waking breath
Out lining every curve and line
forced imperfections to the surface
Easily dismissing them as a reflection of myself

I lost myself in you, fully
divulging thought, desire, fear, joy, pain
feeding my body to the flame
mind burning at soul
feeding it daily, I tossed aside consequence
until the still small voice was quieted

Only then did I fully understand nirvana
floating to the shores of your consciousness
I lost you

I searched day and night
(determined to bring you back)
turning over every dead body in my mind
form after form
face after face
the same blank stare
the same body

my own

Meanings

I must make up my own meaning.
Which is what I did to you.
I'm too much of something.
Or not enough of what you want.
I need to go. To leave. And you need to stay?
I'm not sure. You could of just changed because the wind.
I must make up my own meaning but of this I'm never sure.

I found a secret

I wondered why tears would form at the edge of my eye lids and slide softly down my cheek. Every one that fell pounded on my heart and weighed on my mind. It was a natural tendency I thought. The world was sad, so messed up, so wrong. In turn it made sensitive people like myself, cry. I never knew that I was viewing myself from a dirty circus mirror.

I thought that I was always perfect, but my fault was excepting perfection, with out giving it. Even excepting it from my self was ridiculous. I would always try to accept and understand others for their fault. In the back of my mind, I was always holding onto the fact that I was endlessly disappointed.

No one could be me. No one could think my great thoughts and so I was lonely. Isolating my self from true meaning and true love I began to reject anything that was unlike me. Yet in everything that rejected me I saw a reflection of what I was and intensely hated, with a burning, inextinguishable hatred. I built my life on judgment and assumptions. When I could not live up to my standards I made sure I paid for it, unlike others around me, with constant unending guilt. I was better then "them" for I made sure I paid for my mistakes and I made sure I kept score for not only me but for them also. I am a bad person. I have felt it, seen it, and now I refuse to deny it.

Today, I take a long hard look at my self. I can clearly see my self. I can clearly see others. I am a bad person. I knew before, but never believed it. Others would tell me not to get down on myself so I would not. But if I attempt to rightly judge others I must truthfully judge myself. I have refused to give compassion a forgiveness for so long that it has taken away the very center of everything good in my life. my inability to forgive has not only ruined my relationships with others but distorted my view of the human condition. I is destructive to assume you are good. Who can live up to your standard? If you don't make exceptions, then all will die crushed under your iron fist of judgment.

Love is something impossible made possible. We make it possible knowing we are evil, messed up, and wrong with the world. Does it not make sense that it is the distinct plan for life that we who destroy everything should be pardoned? More then just letting it slide or letting it off the hook, which is the human tendency to pacify ourselves. Many things in life make exceptions but always remember and are always there to remind us that we have better be on our best behavior and never do that one wrong again. That would be ok just this one time, BUT actually having forgiveness, this is a great gift. Having mercy, as if we had never did what we did. As if we were accepted in spite of ourselves. To be fully known and fully loved. This is true forgiveness.