Profound Thoughts

I think the most profound thought I’ve had today
Was when I sat to use the restroom and realized
That Francesca Rose designed my skirt
And she's got entirely fabulous taste
Which led to the thought that I really have no taste at all
I just put together pieces of a puzzle someone else painted
Before cutting it apart and putting it into a box
Which most people don’t think outside of anyway
And I suddenly felt less fashionable and/or talented
Not that I enjoy my attire any less
Or lose any appreciation for the compliments I inevitably receive on said fashion
Someone asked if I would be at church tonight
My answer was that it was undetermined
Seeing as to how I have such a hard time being seen
If I don’t know that I look absolutely adorable
But he saw me in this outfit
The skirt that Francesca Rose designed
And other pieces that seemed to interlock when I placed one upon the other
With a lazily pulled back ponytail and no make up on
An entirely unimpressive ensemble overall
And he probably still thinks I’m cute
Maybe because he knows I’m smart
Or maybe because he’s probably only looking at how cute I am
Seventy five percent of the time or less
Depending on how intoxicating the conversation is
And I think the second most profound thought I’ve had today
Was when I realized that if I write down my profound thoughts
Other people might not be as foolish as I
Thinking that they are responsible for the fate of the universe going sour
Because they weren’t perfect enough
That if I share my understanding that without Francesca Rose
I would have no taste at all
Maybe we can all better understand that without a Creator
We would have no pieces to try to fit together
And that just as our wardrobe is merely a reflection of other people’s talents
Not necessarily our own abilities or ideas
So our mistakes don’t make us bad people and our good deeds don’t make us great
But submission to the instruction a particular carpenter left us
Make us more subdued and, therefore, richly blessed
Not necessarily better or worse
Simply closer to God
That Francesca Rose and God are really the talented ones
And we are simply instruments of design
Putting together the pieces in the heart of the puzzle
Once we’ve finished with the edges

This is the first poem I ever memorized! Yay.


How Do I

How do You quietly, patiently listen as I
Complain to myself about having no one to talk to
How do You faithfully stand beside me as I
Constantly moan about being alone
How do You passionately, unconditionally love me as I
Consistently whine about nobody caring

How do You answer me with blessing when I
Finally turn to You like You haven’t been there all the time
How do You welcome me with open arms when I
Eventually come to You offering a broken, worn heart
How do You embrace me with tears of joy when I
Inevitably run to You when my world shatters

How do I not hear You in the gentle breeze
When I’m searching for a whisper of love
How do I not see You in the smiling faces
When I’m seeking a glimmer of hope
How do I not feel You in the warmth of the sun
When I’m longing to be held by someone who cares

How do I lay down this bottle
And pick up Your book for some comfort
How do I put away my addictions
And pursue Your greater plans for some sense of belonging
How do I step off this ride
And follow Your example for some stability

How do I shut up and stop asking questions and
Get ready, get set, go.


jonathan. (v.2)

400 miles can’t erase your face from my dreams
Not that they can even be considered dreams
A sense of constant discomfort plaguing my sleep

Your words are my heart’s mentor
You gave me a voice and a passion for thought
My inspiration is dwindling in your absence

Something inside me knows you
More intimately than I could ever know anyone
But these are only pieces of who we are

I’m in love with your words
Your desires, your beliefs, your hopes and aspirations
With the soul of the artist you breathe to life

But these words can’t erase his name from my heart
Although 400 miles can surely erase yours
And so the faceless heartthrob diminishes

Last night I saw you ask me if there was someone else
I saw the life drain from within you at the lack of response
It makes me wish I had a different answer

Before this inquiry finds its way to you in daylight
I’ll break your heart and set you free
Breaking mine all the same

So please don’t open the eyes we both keep shut
Or the horrors we deny entrance to our thoughts
May interrupt your sleep as they have mine

And please remember as your pen writes on
That purple balloons provoke thought in all of us
And my caring goes deeper than simply noticing the man holding them

I will forevermore see in simple colors
Beauty everywhere in poetry in everything
Because you were there to teach me


Crossing the Line

Your calm words are
The most soothing medicine my heart’s seen in a while
Your laughter is
More moving to me than hugs and kind words

Because you’re something more than a friend
But something less than a lover
I’m lost in the in-betweens
Overstepping all my boundaries set for safety and comfort and such

Your gentle kiss is
The most exhilarating experience my heart’s endured in a while
Your whispers are
More critical to me than smiles and intimate encounters

Because you’re something more than an acquaintance
But something short of mine
I’m lost on where to go from here
Crossing over lines that can never be uncrossed

Your intentions are
The most thought about emotions my minds anticipated in a while
Your interest is
More stirring to me than art and poetic words

Because you’re something more than I asked for
But still something I’m grasping to

Because I don’t have any ex-boyfriends
Just lost friendships in high numbers and counting

Because we’ve crossed over lines that can’t be uncrossed
But stopped somewhere short of committed
I’m lost in a maze of advice and controversial instincts
Taking risks for a chance at forever


Murder Without Death

Her heart is gone but her face still lingers
The aching he endures as a result of that absence
Can only be defined as murder without death

And as for the continued presence of her smile
I would liken it to torture without restraints
The victim willingly strung up in the line of fire
As if it pleasures him in some fashion

So she unintentionally plays the role of the sadist
Her masochist loitering in the no parking zone
Uncharacteristically wincing with each lash

Because in the beginning of the story
He was drawn to her captivating smile
Ignorantly dismissing posted warning signs
Urged to pursue despite inevitable heartache

Her laughter filled his emptiness but she was so reserved
The adoration he once possessed for her and that fulfillment
Could only have been defined as marriage without a certificate

As as for the walls she so intently barricades herself with
I would liken them to love without emotion
The princess willingly sentencing herself to a loveless life
As if it pleasures her in some fashion

So he rides around outside on a white horse in shining armor
His damsel in distress lost somewhere inside Mission Impossible
Uncharacteristically refusing to be rescued

Because the story never seems to change
She attracts precious males with her captivating personality
Ignorantly dismissing the opportunity to love and be loved
Urged to protect the hearts of fragile men

Her heart will open and her life will change
The aching she will endure as a result of that change
Can only be appreciated as the sour that precedes the sweet

And as for the continued persistence of the man in shining armor
I would liken it to the repeated bashing of a head to a brick wall
The injured willingly conversing with the unfriendly red rectangles
As if it pleasures him in some fashion

So I grow to accept that not all who ride white horses are gifted knights
And not all prisoners desire freedom from their captivity
Uncharacteristically comfortable in familiar surroundings

Because there is no happy ending to an unfinished story
She draws countless men, notices only the mean ones (they’re bolder)
Ignorantly dismissing her instincts and distaste
Urged to pursue despite inevitable heartache

Her friend the author will watch and her protests will raise
The aching she will endure as a result of those arguments
Can only be comforted as the loss of something she never really had to begin with

And as for the continued destructive path of the woman with a heart
I would liken it to suicide minus the satisfaction of death
The pain and suffering and wounding entirely self-inflicted
As if it pleasures her in some fashion

So I grow to accept that not all who reach out achieve aid at the extent of their hand
And not all who have hearts know how to love
Uncharacteristically causing more grief than joy

Because maybe someday happiness will find its place amidst this never ending story
She will attract someone who will make her happy and quit
Ignorantly dismissing her instincts and distaste
Urged to protect the remaining pieces of her heart


empty spot.

i checked the mail five times today
my hopes were high that the mail man just got lost
weird how it hurts more each letter-less day
how i feel as empty as my mailbox was
every time i turned the key

i check my missed calls every five minutes
thinking surely i just didn't hear it ringing
strange how it aches more each whisper-less hour
how i've exhausted my menu buttons nearly
as much as my heart

i saw a guy that looked like you in the parking lot yesterday
he walked like you and he was cute like you
and he had hte same sticker on the back of his
same color truck as yours
but i knew it wasn't you because he didn't wave back

i saw a girl driving that truck this morning
her passenger sat like you and laughed like you
and he had the same hat on that you swore
you'd wear 'til it fell apart
but i knew it wasn't you because you don't slouch in your seat like that

i run to my door when it's knocked five times
believing so ignorantly that you simply got lost
funny how it hurts more with each interested face on the other side
how i wish their bright, wide smiles were yours

i wake up in bed every five minutes
convinced you're still lying next to me
amazing how it aches more with each night you don't return
how i wish i could forget the empty spot is yours