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Shame

I am ashamed. Scratched disk, on replay, replay, replay, rewind replay. Pain, torment, utter regret leaves my swirling soul bitter to the taste. Humiliation, mortification, desperation. Defeated, degraded, tormented, discontented. Shame shackles me like a prisoner, bound wrists, locked mouth, surrounded, cornered, frozen. Thoughts that cannot be my own thoughts. Relentless, ruthless, yet terrified that truth lies hidden in gruesome fists. Battered, bruised, neglected, rejected, subjected. All my fault. All my fault. All my fault. All my fault. It's all my fault. Insults slap me, I am starting to believe. Disappointment, disappointment, disappointment, name tag made for me. Wait. Silence. Silence. Silence captivates my ears, sweet relief, such a sweet relief. Lay bracing for the barrage, yet all that remains is sweet relief. Thoughts that are not my thoughts fill me to the brink. Torment lies dormant. Washed in a crimson tide of tenderness. Abolished, demolished, I lay unchained in an open cell. Renewed, erased, regret is but a pile of dust. My name tag has been scratched, torn, burned, forgotten, revised, I am not a disappointment anymore. New creation, identity replaces emptiness, forgiveness replaces unworthiness. Twisted, ugly, retched scars, that engulf, contain, consume my heart. Two nails, two hands, two holes, one man. Crucified, a sacrifice, a price that bought me back from my past's clenching grasp. Sweet relief.

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Beauty from Ashes

I am ashes. Seared memories fallen, forgotten. Shapeless, useless, nothingness. Whispers, murmurs on the wind hurling me, whirling me, disturbing me, spreading me, much much too thin. Flashes, flames flicker through my soul. Words, thoughts, moments, hurts, regrets, mistakes, my fault. Blame, shame, the fight for fame, look what became of me. Cuts too deep, raw, raspy, retched. Consumed, left for dead, unable to compose a thought. Roaring, raging, stinging fire, screaming silence, grasping, clenching, shrieking, bawling, fighting, banging, panging, sprinting, scratching, I hope, and yet this maze missing a finish line will be the death of me. Relentless, endless, hopeless, could I be any less than this? And then. And then this sound, incomparable, undeniable, warm, beautiful, home. It's home. This sound is home. Faint, firm, whispers purpose into me. I can breathe. Reconciliation, renewal, restoration. Pumping, beating, weary heart, given a fresh start. Etched, scratched, scrawled in its bloody bones, one word. Mine. That pumping, beating, weary heart, soars on wings of eagles. Shapeless, useless, nothingness into purpose, into courage, into cherished. Scooped up, picked up, washed up me, look what he has made of me. Redeemed, rectified, revived. Blame, shame, mundane, the pain, not my name anymore. Price of a life, written in blood, sealed with a stone. Death faced defeat from the hands of a king. I am beauty from ashes.

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Atlas

I am Atlas. Burden incomparable, crushing tender bones. Grapple with the unrestrained mass of the Universe, crumple under pressure. Bitter drops of sweat, tears stream, can not, will not, could not budge an inch. This weight engulfs my essence, courage, passion, hatred, hurt. Not much weight my mouth produces, suffering hidden beneath empty words. I cannot handle it. I will not handle it. I did not handle it. I am Atlas. Endure the insufferable load, shove it all down my throat, I could not, cannot, will not, I must uphold this Universe. Crumbling, collapsing, soundness into soundless. Summon every ounce of passion, picture every vacant face. No matter how I struggle, I cannot leave this place. Sacrifice, it means this price. I cannot, will not, leave this place. I will be Atlas.

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Drowning

I am drowning. And it seems as though there will be no escape for me. Burning chest, desperate lungs, I am submerged far above my capacity. Racing, pounding, pattering of my burn-out heart. I feel the man inside racing through my veins, pinging off my bones, and catapulting off my organs, searching for a loophole. I'm sorry, dear sir, there is not one to be found. Trust me, I've searched. He lights a fire in the hollow of my chest and it's stinging embers travel to the far corners of my body. Just as I'm sure I've surely drowned, I couldn't be any more certain. My jaw crashes open and Niagara Falls forces it's way down my esophagus, the bright red of searing coals dwindle to dull gray of defeat. I have beat the drowning once more, my friends. I am suffocating. Every cell of my being shrieks for sustenance, and I deprive them all the more. I cannot turn my brain off. 1,000 elephants take a seat on my chest as I clench and squirm. The voice of reason is banging it's angry little fist on the metal of my clanging mind, unrelenting, determined to awake the Lazarus that has taken up residence there but my mind lies desolate and barren. A closed for the season sign swings from the rafters, cobwebs collect in the crevices. Flesh into lead, and I'm as immovable as a brick, my stubborn limbs refusing to try, no matter my pleading. The man bolts back and forth round my head, frantic, drenched in a cold sweat. My mind lies desperate and barren. I'm suffocating and lead erupts into sand, crumbling, to lay in pieces on the cold floor. The man is clish-clashing his little electrical paddles back and forth, the current coursing. Up my spine crawls a tingle and a zap, and my lonely Lazarus awakens for a dear moment. My lungs remember that they're lungs and my cells gasp in relief as the breeze drifts through my body, bristling through my rib cage and echoing off the hollows of my hip bones, whistling a tune of victory. I have beat the suffocating once more, my friends. I'm finished and I'm done. The pump pump of my heart is missing its pump and the whoosh whoosh of my breath has forgotten it's whoosh. The will to continue fled on the first flight out. Creaking, groaning, grating, rasping, old bones, an old soul beneath a plastic smiling shell. I find no purpose to continue on. I am alive. I am drowning, suffocating, finished and done, and yet I am alive. Creaking, aching, racing, pounding, pitter-pattering, pinging, catapulting, searching, yet I am alive. Burning, searing, stinging, crashing, dwindling, shrieking, clenching, squirming, yet I am alive. Banging, clanging, unrelenting, closing, sleeping, collecting, refusing, pleading, yet I am alive. Bolting, crumbling, clish-clashing, coursing, tingling, gasping, bristling, echoing, yet I am alive. Whistling, pumping, whooshing, fleeing, and yet, I still am alive. Against my dear Lazarus's wishes, I am yet alive. Drowning, suffocating, finished and done, death loses once more and hope has yet won. I am new. Gleaming, beaming, laughing, seeing, skipping, dancing, running, prancing. Singing, playing, loving, racing, talking, smiling, shining, writing. I am new

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“oh darling, lets be adventurers

✈️💺

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“your tomorrow will come eventually”

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I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart.

Vincent van Gogh (via post-impressionisms)

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Sometimes,

Sometimes I get upset over the stupidest little tiny things. Sometimes I laugh until I cry over something that makes no sense at all. Sometimes I wish I was a different person who thought different things and loved different people. Sometimes I overthink things. Sometimes I cry for everything, for every failure, for every fallen dream, for every mistake, for every heartbreak for everyone ever. Sometimes I am spontaneous and wildly crazy. And sometimes I feel lost, as though I cannot ever fathom being found. I am me, and we are all we, and that is how things are. Lets be unapologetically us, lets do the things we love, lets be honest about things we hate and move on. There will always be something to dislike about everyone. At least you can always say that you were not fake. 

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God, forgive me for seeking not your heart but rather that my heart would be saved first and foremost. Strip whatever evil plagues my soul; take back what is yours, take it all and make it new in your glory and grace. Your will be done, not mine, from now and forever more.

T.B. LaBerge // Thy Will Be Done (via tblaberge)

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What a terrible thing to think “Did they not love me because I was not their first choice?” What a terrible thing that is, because you shouldn’t be on a list at all. Yes, love is a choice, but not one that settles. We see someone and we think “I want to love this person and build them up.” And so you do, and not in a way that says “I want to love this person because they can do A.B. and C. For me.” No, you love the person because you want to see them grow in beauty, grace, love, gentleness and wisdom. You want the best for them, because to you, they are the choice you made for better or worse, and not a number that fit all your needs and desires; because love comes with a servants heart.

T.B. LaBerge // Things I’m still learning at 25 (via tblaberge)

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it can`t rain forever

Tides change with the help of the moon Day comes once the night makes room My head is swaying like a tree Rough winds put the fight back in me This pain, these problems You know they're not forever My love, my sweetheart We're on to better weather It can't rain forever Some days it will pour Love is the best umbrella It can't rain forever No-o-o-o It can't rain forever No-o-o-o It can't rain forever

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omg

http://iglovequotes.net/

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I want every single one of them right now

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I’ve found that growing up means being honest. About what I want. What I need. What I feel. Who I am.

Epiphany (via quotemadness)

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Oh, darling. Please find every little drop of strength you have left in you. Your head will cease to spin, your heart will cease to ache, cease to break, you will find a way to beat the pain, so please, oh darlin, please find every little drop of strength you have left in you. 

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If you want to win the battle of joy, you will keep your eyes on the Lord. You will waste no time by worrying or by being anxious. You will resolve in your heart that the Lord will have your full and undivided attention regardless of what is happening in your circumstances. So often when we are in a battle, all we talk about is the battle, the cancer, the lack of finances, the nerve of my mother-in-law, the rebellion of a child. Talk about the Lord when you are in a battle! Choose a scripture and stand on it!

“A Jolt of Joy” YouVersion App Bible Reading Plan (via proverbs31v25)