Victory

Reality and dreams embrace each other

In the still of dawn’s first light

And victory comes to the one who surrenders

Comfort and fear sweetly make love

As the sun beats down upon the cold

And victory comes to the one who surrenders

Passion and peace entwine intimately

In the calm of the moon’s gentle glow

And victory comes to the one who surrenders

Fade

If I show you my tears

Will you wipe them away

Or will you hold me close

Until they slowly fade?

If I show you my scars

Will you hide them away

Or will you kiss each one

Until they slowly fade?

If I show you my fears

Will you say there’s no need

Or will you lay with me

Until they slowly fade?

If I show you me

Will you help me to change

Or will you love me for me

With a love that won’t fade? 

The Lost and Forgotten

We were never meant to be happy or free. Our very lives were under the thumb of tyrants, each day being uncertain if it would be our last. Even the simplest mistake resulted in pain and torment. They controlled our every move - our every thought.

We were taught that love was pain, and hope a mere fantasy. God had forsaken us, and prayer was a useless act. Dreams were never meant to come true, and peace was non-existent.

We were the forgotten. The lost. The helpless. Our hearts grew cold and empty, our souls died.

We were the unlovable, the unreachable, the lonely. Trust, faith, love, tears - these concepts were a constant danger to our very existence.

I escaped the tyranny, but could not escape the lessons learned. For years I held onto those beliefs of being forgotten and lost, helpless and unlovable.

Many days I continued to wonder if your escape had been the better option. You escaped both the tyranny and the lessons. You found light by extinguishing yours. You found light, while we continued to live in darkness.

Days turned to months, and then to years. And the darkness remained my only companion.

--------------------

For many years I felt like were alone in our struggles. Yes, I had a vague understanding that there were people in the world who had it so much worse, but this was only a small notion, and one where I chose not to put my focus. Perhaps it was because I was simply too young and immature to recognize the world beyond myself. Perhaps I was simply too afraid to open my heart and care. 

It took me a long time to recognize there was a light shining through that darkness. It took me a long time to stop trying to put out that light - to stop being afraid of it. It took me a long time to understand that amid all the pain and suffering, that light had stayed by my side. It took me a long time to understand that I have the power and responsibility to show that light to others. 

Perhaps it was because of this realization that my heart is heavy today. Our world is broken. It has always been broken. And it will continue to be broken because so many people have refused to recognize that they too have this power and responsibility to show this light to others. So many want to lock the door and keep the hurt and lost and helpless away. So many are driven by fear or arrogance. Or both. They claim compassion, but don't truly understand what it means to be compassionate. They claim love, but have no understanding of what it means to love.

I no longer wonder if your escape was the better option. Yes, you escaped the tyranny and the darkness. But I have found something so much better hiding in the darkness - a light. Hope, dreams, love, peace. And I have found a desire to show this light to others, to help people realize they are not alone, or helpless. I have found a desire to truly give compassion and love to those who need it most - to those who were like us, or worse. To those who have that rope around their necks, and cannot find a reason not to let it tighten. To those who stopped believing, or never had a chance to believe. To the lost and forgotten.

poems

Below are a few a couple poems I wrote a month or so ago. They need to be edited yet, but figured I'd post anyway...

Love hesitantly but deeply

Trust openly but few

As the moon beans shine upon

The deserving

As the wind caresses

Dreams brightly dance

Hold onto those dreams

As you hold one’s heart

Tenderly when they make you smile

Fearful but forgotten when they bring pain

Week like the storm clouds

For those who weep with you

Wrap your cold fingers around

Those who cannot

Surrender to the power hands

That reach out like silken threads

(9/9/2015)

--------

The dreams slowly come alive

as the fire embers burn,

never ending,

never dying,

always heated

even though retreated.

Just one touch,

just one time,

hold me near.

Just one heart,

just one need,

nothing to fear.  (9/21/2015)

A Selfish Disease?

Yesterday, a trusted friend uttered the words "depression is a selfish illness."
Yesterday, someone who should understand this illness, dared to say that I, and others who suffer depression, are selfish.
Yesterday, because of 5 little words, I felt selfish, which caused me to feel even more depressed.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, selfish is defined as: "(Of a person, action, or motive) lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one’s own personal profit or pleasure."

On the one hand, it is sometimes true that when someone is in a depression, they do lack consideration for others. But this is not always the case. Often we do consider them, but lack the ability to truly help others or be there for them, which in turn causes our depression to worsen. Is this selfishness? Is it selfish to be physically and emotionally incapable of helping other people? 

"Concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure"... well, I guess this part could also be considered true - at least to the degree that I do not know a single depressed person who wants to be depressed, and instead does want to find some sort of joy in their life. They do want the personal profit of a full month, or week, or even just a day, of happiness. Is that selfish? Is it wrong to want to not live in emotional pain on a continuous basis? 

For me... when I think of something being selfish, I think of it being a conscious effort to achieve personal gain (or, personal perceived gain). The acts that stem from depression - the inability to put others first, or to do what should be done - are subconscious symptoms of a debilitating disease.  

But, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe even in writing this, I'm being selfish. Maybe that's all it is and all it ever has been.



 

Baby Brother

Tonight, it hit me just how much I miss you, Matthew.

You were my baby. I watched you be born. I was the one in charge of taking care of you from the time you first came home. I was the one who held you and rocked you when you were sick and our parents were too preoccupied to be bothered with a little baby. I was the one who held you all night long when you couldn't sleep in your crib, falling asleep in a chair with you in my arms. I was the one who sang or read you to sleep almost every night until you were seven years old. I was the one who took care of you when you were hurt, or sick, or sad.

I never got to know the kid you grew up to be... or the teenager... or the man. I left home and didn't look back. And now, it's too late. I will never know. No one will.

In 12 days... well, 11 considering it's now the 5th.... you'll have been gone from this life for six years. I still remember that day. It had been about 14 and a half years since I'd last seen you... I went into work, and opened my email. Jenny had emailed asking if I'd gotten the email from Tanya to my home email address. So, I quickly checked that, and my heart stopped. I don't think it's truly ever started again since that day.

You were gone.

I know you were 24 at the time, but to me, you were (and are) still that little baby laying in my arms sleeping. You were (and are) still that silly little boy with the infectious laugh. You were (and still are) the one holding the candle when my world was dark and cold.

I miss you. I love you. And I'm sorry.

Halfway

There I'd stood
high on the cliff
the sun beating down
warming
comforting.
Feeling accomplished
at peace.

But then I lost my
footing.
A rock or twig
or some other
obstacle,

perhaps myself,

tripped me
and now I'm slipping
stumbling
grasping for something
anything
to catch me
before I fall

again.

I sit
halfway up
halfway down
tears threaten to fall
as my eyes raise.

Frightened,

alone
trapped in the middle
too exhausted to climb
one way or the
other.
Unable to move.

Dreams of falling
nightmares of rising
bubble to the surface.

A smile joins the tears
rain joins the shining sun
peace mingles with fear
as I sit
halfway up
halfway down

halfway me.

I am Enough

It's no secret that I have never really thought of myself as having any inner strength or beauty. It's no secret that I have always believed that I am not good enough. I am not enough. The person I am - as a mother, a friend, a wife, an employee, a person - is just not enough for others, or myself.

Within the past few weeks, I have come to realize that much of this has to do with those whom I choose to be around. I have realized there are two kinds of people - those who tear you down, and those who build you up.

There are those who may say the right things at times - "you're a good friend", "you're a good mom", "you're a good person" - but at the same time, have a way of making it well known that you aren't enough for them as you are.

And there are those who say those same words, and their actions and subsequent words back up their belief in you, and in your abilities and worth. 

I have been blessed with people in my life who are that latter type. I have been blessed with people who truly believe I am worth something... who truly believe I am enough. I have been blessed with people who understand when I need a few days (or weeks) of "me time" - something that, as an introvert, I need a lot of. These people don't try to make me feel guilty when I just can't (or frankly don't want to) spend time with them. They don't take it personally. They don't feel like I no longer care about them. They just accept me. And I'm still enough for them.

I have been blessed with people who understand that sometimes I'm a little temperamental, and will get a bit cranky or hurt by something they say or do, even though I really shouldn't react that way. They're willing to take the time to understand why I react the way I do, and work through it with me, without feeling like I am going to leave them, and without making me feel guilty for being me. And I'm still good enough for them.

I have been blessed with people who don't try to build me up with false words stated with ulterior motives - who don't tell me what they think I want to hear in the hopes that I'll spend more time with them, or will choose them first, or will love them more - but rather do build me up with words meant from their heart, because of the beautiful people they are on the inside. They build me up because they are willing to look beyond themselves, and beyond what I show the world, and see me for who I truly am. And I'm still enough for them.

And because I have been blessed with these people, I find that I am believing I do have an inner strength and beauty. I believe I am good enough.

People like this are truly a blessing... and a rare one at that. When you're lucky enough to find that person, hold onto them and love them and return the blessing.

Thank you to those who are such a blessing to me. You are loved dearly.

Not Enough

You're not enough
Nothing shatters a heart more
especially when spoken
through actions
over words.

My heart tightens
and the tears flow yet again
unstoppable
each time I remember
I'm not enough.

Not smart enough
Not good enough
Simply not enough

I try to speak
but the words get caught
I try to write
But my pen falters

There are no words
they're are not enough
to express this pain
echoing, growing
taking on a life of its own

My heart is being crushed
under the weight
of the look in your eyes
and sound of your voice

Not smart enough
Not good enough

There's nothing simple
about being not enough
There's nothing simple
about this ache within.
This ache without
hope

I hold it in
praying, seeking
just once to not be
not enough

A Gentle Melody

The clouds darken
around my soul
dancing ominously
a gentle melody screaming

My heart cries out
silently
wanting one more caress
my flesh desperately
seeking one more
rough hold

The skies grown in passion
the rains whimper
in comfort
a gently melody screaming

Glass Heart

When you look in the mirror
you don't like what you see
The reflection staring back
is that of others from the past

Those who said you're not enough
with actions more than words
Those who didn't see the beauty
of a heart made from glass

A heart uniquely crafted
by the hands of God himself
Shattered by neglect
Tempered by rejection

Every crack reflects light
a lovely prism on others' hearts
reflecting that which is truly you
love, beauty and perfection.

But you don't see this glass heart
when you look in the mirror
So I wish you could see
yourself through my eyes

Maybe then you'd see perfection
both inside and out
And maybe then you'd understand
that the mirror lies

Risk

You're up to bat
what are you going to do?
Do you swing, risk striking out?
Do you swing, risk the hit?
First base, second, third
home run?

How are are you willing to go?
How far do you want to go?

You step up to the plate
and grasp the bat,
hard cold steel in your hands.
And here's the pitch
what are you going to do?

Do you go for it?
Do you risk it all?

Hunger for a Dream

You make me want you
Now I need you deep inside
my soul
You make me thirst for you
Now I need just a taste
To make me whole

You make me hunger

In my dreams I hear your voice
Whispering in the darkness
Your touch burns my flesh
A satiny steel caress

I long to reach out for you
I long to taste that light
Let me ignite your flesh
Let me feed on pure delight

You make me want you
Now I need you deep inside
my soul
You make me thirst for you
Now I need just a taste
To make me whole

You make me hunger

In my dreams I feel your embrace
Driving out the demons within
Your warmth comforts my heart
A wanting breath against my skin

I long to drink from you
To know an angel's fantasies
Let me live them out with you
All your aches I will appease

You make me want you
Now I need you deep inside
my soul
You make me thirst for you
Now I need just a taste
To make me whole

You make me hunger

You make me hunger for a dream

Poems by the Fire

The Embers Still Burn

Though the fire has died,
Though the winds have grown cold,
In the dark of night
The embers still burn.

The warmth still reaches out
With its gentle caress.
In the still of the night
The embers still burn.

Whispers rise up, swirling
With heated secrets.
In the moonlit glow of night
The embers still burn.

Waiting for a hint of kindling -
For a moment to awaken
That fire in the night -
The embers still burn. 

Two Lonely Souls

Two lonely souls
whisper
the soft glowing moon
the only one to hear
the desires unspoken
unnoticed
by even their minds.

Two lonely souls
reaching
silently pleading
in the still of the night
the needs held captive
inhibited
by even their bodies.

Two lonely souls
loving
the gentle breeze carrying
the unexpressed hopes
the ache remains buried
undiscovered
by even their hearts.

In the Sand

I try to fight it,
to stop these thoughts that enter my mind.
These thoughts which dance happily,
without guilt,
over that line drawn in the sand.

I try to fight it,
the ache that grows deep within my gut.
This ache wants nothing but to dance again,
without care,
over that line drawn in the sand.

To feel that warmth consume me,
to hear that heartbeat against my own,
the trembling hands and breath,
the hesitation

To know that passion that is not shown,
that which cowers beneath the stoic facade,
yet burns from out of the blue
into me

I try to fight it,
to stop the scintillating dreams of the night.
These dreams which dance poeticly,
without remorse,
over that line drawn in the sand.

I try to fight it,
the waves which engulf and threaten to drown.
These waves which dance
with a whimper,
over that line drawn in the sand.

To feel that fire burn within,
to hear my own sighs echoing,
the glistening wonderment, two as one,
an unending song

To know the fulfillment of that dream,
the beauty of caressing souls,
moving as one in a dance over that line drawn
in the sand.