Sunday, October 24, 2010

fucking why do i have to re-live this conversation again and again sunday

that was supposed to be me
i was supposed to be in front of that congregation
i was supposed to be singing church songs, camp songs, praise songs
clapping my hands with the microphone harmony, melody with the acapella brethren
that was supposed to be me writing music for lifting the soul to heaven
singing, leading the congregation
you all were supposed to come to my house
to my hospitality
singing on the carpet with the lights off
reading that book
religiously
it makes me sick to think of it, that world
it makes me sad
i will never go back
my eyes are open and you all have closed your ears, your hearts to me
because i disagreed
because i spoke different to your rythm
you said "that's nice"
pat my head and put me in my place
you who spoke freedom
restoration
you are the Strangler
you are the same tomb as those 'other churches'
you are they
in your brightly painted denial
smug
leading the desperate to an empty well
calling it refreshing
why am i sad
when i see a picture of her singing
smiling
blissful
singing all the right songs
with all the right people
in all the right rules
she is happy
in the life that was promised me
now i am free
sad
and free
my happiness is a prize far greater than yours will ever be
i am sad
simply of the ignorance once held
now i am awake to life
to death
i am awake and alive
your church is desert
not enough
not enough
not enough
not enough
not enough
not enough
not enough
not enough
NOT ENOUGH!!!
that was supposed to be me
thank the One it is not
no more damage will be done
in the name of false restoration
give me real
give me actual
give me the anti-lie
mine
mine
mine is the Freedom
mine is the TRUTH
what exactly
only the One may display
i will sing those songs no more
i sing my soul
only my soul
to the One
you may join me if you like
you may join me if you do not like
i will be where i will
free
true
true
real
real.

Friday, October 1, 2010

fucking shit but que sera friday

sometimes, i just want to say "i hate my fucking life". i don't. i just hate certain things about my life in this moment on this day- on certain days which happen to happen some days...

and then my husband reaches one of his perpetually warm hands over and holds my arm as we sit side by side. and i breathe.

i just need to recall my place within this existence. i am trapped in my own mind. there is no 'outside' of my gray matter.

gray matter in my plasma, in my bones, in my muscles, sinews, tissues. all of which will die. cease to exist. then where is My existence? where?

so, i eat. i drink. i pee. i poop. i bathe. i sleep. i interact with people and with the plants, places, things around me. i dance. i dream. i cry. i laugh. i cry and laugh some more.

i'll try to keep the laughter at greater odds. what more can i do?