A Little Light Reading

The bodies were burning like charcoal in a furnace, emitting the same awful smells that traced the same awful memories for those watching in numb indifference. I was holding my breath waiting for a reaction from them, waiting, but they didn't even flinch. I could feel my stomach drop against the coarse moments of utter compromise; I was drowning in the cacophony of their silence. The smoke and ash billowed up with human flesh, and I was a thousand miles away but I swear I could feel the warmth of a house ablaze. I quickly realized how unadvised it was to breathe this air so I cupped my face in my hand, so dishonestly, and curled up on the floor, my only chance of survival was in being submissive. The smoke was draped over me like a thick wool blanket in the middle of summer. I was being strangled by the strings of cloudy human hair and skin and marrow from their bones; its all filling my lungs now...

I see a class, they're all sitting around talking about a book. And she's walking into the ocean. She's going to find freedom and she finds it by never coming back. They're all just sitting there, just sitting. I don't understand why the room is so foggy and why there's laughter over the intercom, awful drunken laughter. She turns around before she walks in, like she knows how much I want to follow her. But then she's gone, into the water. The waves are tossing and turning at her waist; they fill up and pummel her over and over again. The rise and fall of such a vehement force knocks over her small frame, and she reluctantly begins to move forward, her weak arms paddling, her thin legs shuffling sand around her ankles. I know she'll make it. It's easy to succeed when your objection is to fail.

But then she starts to transform, the whole scene, transforming right before me. Her hands grow thicker, larger, her face more angular, with stubble etched on. Her eyes and skin darken. Her hair falls out. The waves toss into sheets and blankets of royal blue and she lashes out at me, her boyish face in anguish, a lust bursting at the seams from her thick eyebrows. From 'his' thick eyebrows... I can feel the pressure of his body like a thousand feet of sea water. And it's all coming down at the same time. He's breathing so fast but I can't get enough oxygen to say a word. And I know in my silence is the acknowledgment of consent. I would swim, but I've lost fear for the sharks in these waters. I'm not sovereign in my own body.

I'm Down By The Tracks Watching Trains Go By

To remind me

I'm starting to realize that 20,000 dollars a year doesnt materialize from hopes and the desire for a good education. I'm starting to feel threatened by state lines. I'm starting to worry there wont be a way and I just keep praying there is some amazing undiscovered South Carolina school I have somehow missed in my college searches. I hate that I know there isnt. As much as Id love to go to school in Asheville, invisible boundaries spike the cost $11,000 more than in-state. And I simply dont know what to do about money.

There are places that aren't here.

Shelter Me O Genius Words

I'm a murderer

Your dad said you would be fine

And I cant even help myself

But God, he lied

On July 16th when you let me go

Your mom said stop calling nights

I wont come back

At least sometimes

And you can count on that

Your grace never looked as good

Congratulations

As it does this morning

You were just a waste of my time

In the daylight

Again

I'm tired of wasting time

I'll give it a few months

On a body that has no life

Before you figure that out

On a rhythm that has no rhyme

Luckily

Tonight

I refuse to die by my own hand

How do I fix this alone?

Rain Rain, Go Away

Outside it was raining. I traced the dots of precipitation that found their way to the mesh an inch from my window. Their circumferences stretched far past the point of my index finger pressed tight against the inside of the glass. Nowhere is really safe from the rain. The little drops of water and I almost meet, save our boundary, as we both submitted to gravity. These zephyr filled spheres that once danced merrily in billowing white clouds stood evidence that something happened, dirt happened. You see, we don't fall victim to gravity, gravity was always there, we give way to that little piece of dust, the dust we not only asked to enter, the dust we formed our entire existence around. I feel bad for the raindrops because just like us, they never planned to fall.

Come again some other day.

Half Blind We Wrote These Songs on Sheets of Salty Wood

If there was no way into God,
I would never have laid in this grave of a body for so long.

I'll be gone this time tomorrow

And, Christ, when You're ready to come back,
Then I think I'm ready for You to come back;
But if You want to stay wherever exactly it is You are,
That's okay, too...it's, it's really none of my business.

Sailing away from this whore house I sleep in. Away from the thirteen year old sluts that crawl around my carpet in the morning when all reasonable people are still asleep. Away from all the empty Jones soda cans of my room and perfect hockey puck espresso shots of work. Away from those I love and equally those I dislike. Into a bed where I'll sleep alone. From the lake to the ocean. The South to the Caribbean. Fragments

I must confess, I'm glad to see it go.

Peace.

Id never want someone so crass as to want someone like me
But a few legues off the shore I bit a flashing lure
And I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be
I still taste its kiss, that dull hook in my lip
Its a memory as useless as a rod without a reel

The God I Believed In Worked On A Campaign Trail

I know its 3:30 and I shouldn't write because I'll say too much, or make it too emotional, or too simple.

Today my father was talking about the eerie weather and joked about it being the end of the world. My mind saw Jesus sporting a peace sign and a full beard, riding down on a billowing white cloud to save a few and condemn the rest. And while the world was separating in my head I was standing between the two groups, the believers, and the non-believers. The line was drawn but I was straddling it. Sometimes I don't know if God will forgive me for doubting him, for betraying him, for blaming him. They always said in church that I shouldn't have doubts about where Ill end up, but I have no idea. To be honest, I don't even understand what gets you into heaven anymore. I don't think its believing, belief isn't a choice. But they say it isn't actions either. They say its Jesus, but whats going to make Jesus want to take me there with him? I don't understand it, but I really want to.

I'm frustrated with the church because it feels a lot like every time I go to one they either give off the impression of "if you re not here to worship than leave" or they just flat out say it. But that's me half the time. Sometimes I go because I need to see God, sometimes I go because I want to learn, to hear what someone will say. Every church would tell me they want me there, but I have yet to walk into one that acts like they do. I just need to believe that God is better than the reflection in his followers.

I'm not totally sure if this is coherent but its getting late and I need to sleep.