My childhood was filled with Sundays
full of hellfire and brimstone
that burned more bridges down
than they ever built

As a child, my curiosity ran wild
always questioning the unquestioned
and all too often, the answer given
sounded more like a parable than epiphany

As an adult,  knowledge became flame
setting fire to the things once held as sacred and true
and I had to choose to either rise, a Phoenix, or
spend my life sifting through the ashes

Such a simple journey for some, but I took the long way home

There is no metaphor
For you.

You lie. And you don't.
You love. And you won't.

You're lost. And you're not.
You're generous.
You're merciless.

You spy. You rage.
And then you're so tender
it feels like home.

I dream about
A you of the future.

That will tell me everything.
That will need my everything.
That I'm ready to give my everything to.

I just want to know him.
I ache with the want.

You now doesn't trust that ache.

You now thinks I am
What you've known.

I'm saying goodbye to you now.

I lost my inner poet
apparently she was last seen
just staring idly into space

She was sitting with her notebook,
gently pondering
in a quiet, tucked away place

I could only see the back of her
she wouldn't turn around
I so wanted to see her face

She was always so quiet
and very often reflective
working at her own steady pace

Not only am I left without poetry
I am also lost for words
she may have taken them all
along with my grace

The search will continue
maybe until the end of my days
as I fear she's left no trace

My mind tells me I'm fine,                            
my memory gets worse with time.

My body tells me I'm fine                           
my health gets worse with time.

My soul is tired but I'm young                     
I guess I'm fine.

I will one day die,                                            
only to realize I was never fine.

I was never okay,                                            
It was all a lie.