This hurts so badly. It's crushing my bones. It's sitting on my veins. It's making sure that I stop beating, that I stop keeping tempo.
No matter how much I've changed, no matter how many times I reinvent myself, I never seem to get the hang of it.
I can change from an amoeba to a person, but I can't for the life of me change one thing.
I can have as much inspiration as I want.
I can know in my gut that this is what I'm going to do with my life.
But...
I have no outlet.
And I do not have the right motivation.
Maybe that's why I'm not allowed to have the outlet now.
But my God... Does it burn. These tears pour themselves onto the swollen, itching skin around my eyes, and that only makes it worse. It's like involuntary self mutilation. I feel so hollow.
I have a purpose. I have everything lying. Right. Outside. The. Window. I can see it, I can feel it's temperature through the glass, I am an inch away and I can't do a darn thing about it. I can't write. I can't compose. I am nothing. Nothing is about what it's supposed to be about. I can't right things full of hope and joy and love like I promised I would. I know, deep down that's why I don't have the stuff I need. I know it. But... I can't help but beat myself up for not having the joy I so lavishly spread upon my fellow man in life. Why can't I commit it to paper? Why I can't I reach through augmented fourths the feelings I am holding onto?
Being worthless is almost better.
I am almost a person.
I'm halfway there.
Knowing what I'm meant to be and having no way of doing it.
I feel like a caterpillar stuck in it's cocoon.
I know I'm going to fly.
I can see the sunlight and I can see the moon.
Through the thread that is now my sky....
I can see it. I can hear it.
Why can't I touch it?
I can taste how sweet tomorrow is,
And somehow I can tell that it's in better hands.
But I can't hand it a glowing kiss.
Even though I'm doing all I can.
I can't.
Take.
This.
I wish I had no hope.
I wish I had no purpose.
But he makes it so hard to forget the goodness in the world.
Someday I'll fly out and it will be the day.
But until then....
I'll stare at this thread that is my temporary sky.
And I'll search for the answer betwixt the cracks.
I'm going to be something no matter how it feels right now.
Because this life really isn't mine to live.
And all I really want is to be his.
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that sounds mighty familiar.
ReplyDeletei wish that what I'm telling you made you feel the comfort I intend in it.
but the truth is still true: you do more, much more of what you were made for than you realise, and you do it simply by being you.
you have thrown me many a lifeline and I not only grabbed them, but kept them with me on the rescue ship and even ashore. I hang them on my wall to remind me, and even up there they still save me.
if you only knew how hard it is for me to trust someone enough to own the kind of need I let you and your family glimpse in me. that has always been the gateway to limitless betrayal and contempt.
until now.
there is so much more to you than you feel, and I praise God that you know that, and will ask him to let you in on the joy you infect us with. my God, you have no idea what you do for us.
I love you.