Saturday, November 24, 2007

To Feel Alive

My life is changing.


My music and words
and your words
and their words
and books
and Bible
the people and places and things
and ideas
the actions
the tears and smiles
the laughter.

My life is changing...

You are changing my life.

Everything and Everyone I have ever known, changing my life.
I am seeing more than I ever could have,
relying on more than I ever would have,
thinking of more than I ever should have.

My feet are on the ground
while my head's in the clouds,
my eyes are on your lips
while my ears tune to Dave
humming, humming...

I don't know what to feel
because I feel more than I know how to.
I don't want to choose.
I am going to live it all.

No worries--
I know what I live for
I know what I love for
I know what I learn for
and yearn for

I know where you are.
I know where you'll be.
I know where I'll be
when you want to find me.

I know where I'll cry
when you forget where we've been,
I know who I'll listen to
when I can no longer trust myself.

I know how to feel
but not how to say,
I know who to need
but not who to leave,
I knew when to look away
but not when to forgive...
forgive and forget.

I know how to sing
to myself in the dark
I know how to dance
in the shower
I know how to overuse
and places
and things
and ideas.

I know how to give myself too much credit,
and I know how to leave the doubt behind.

I know what it is
to feel alive.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Happy 19th Birthday,

Stephen Baker! I would send a card your way, but there's got to be an awful lot of people in Lynchburg. I would have to hope that a north-heading postman knows exactly who you are. So instead, I'm sending you a post.

Have a wonderful day.


Tuesday, November 20, 2007


There's a river inside my head.
It is never still,
all the while pouring through
from top to toe.

There's a sun behind my eyes
but a cloud behind your words.
There's a storm beside my heart
and rain where the blood should be.

There's a fist below my gut.
He tells me things no one should hear
and tears the stitching
my spirit had sewn.

A fire engulfs my soul.
Sitting next to the river,
she sees her reflection
and weeps.

She weeps not for sorrow
and seldom for joy
--but she weeps to cool the flames.
She weeps because she doesn't like to burn.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

A Racing Mind at 1:45

I do believe I have more to say than I
know how to say
am able to say
care to say
will ever say.

sometimes i feel i have words that could rival others'.
or forget about others'... rival my own.
then i reread them
and vow to stick to learning from others' alone.

could it be, though,
that life is not life
if it's only learned from
and never taught?

then, man.
this is a hard thing to live.