sad stanzas

I was happy, and I just got sad again
hit me like a thunderstorm
Surprised by round, wet, rain drops
puddles rising up and flooding my feet

I’m slipping, or fearful of it
When I feel Joy I end up just waiting
for it to leave
It’s been a few weeks now, a long
month or so, and I’ve have this unshakable contentedness
but when will it loosen its grip?

Here it is, here’s one of those moments,
doom approaching but I’ve got no
voice left, exhaustion allows sadness to
seep in and I sometimes get sick of
my familiar sorrow – like an old friend,
one you no longer have anything in common with,
I’ve been trying for so long to shake this

I can only hope, that when I wake
the sun will greet me, the son will
get me out of bed

Anxiety is when all of the things
become too much, stacked up and pulled together tightly
Sadness is the unlacing of a sentimental
mind, the undressing of a daydreamer’s corpse
and the revealing of a realist heart

I’ve stuck with the phrase – “I won’t always be this way”,
since I was a child afraid of the dark
Thought that when I was big, I’d just somehow grow out
of it, but my darkness is in the form of daylight now
It’s the way the time keeps rolling onward and
the immensity of the past, present, future
becomes like a shadow cast on a wall or
a slight shake of the handle on a closet door

I’ve yet to grow out of it, but sometimes I can get a hold of it
It aches, but I can let gratitude root out the sting of sadness
I’ve been bitter before, but I’m not bitter anymore
let this all be sweetness that draws me closer
to the one that knows my heart before it weighed heavy
and after it was soaked

Stepped away from these words for a moment,
back again to say that this is not a denouncement of Joy
I know Joy to be true and real and alive
this is just an acknowledgement of what lives
naturally in me, what grows inside,
tangles up my head and soul all to be
found out by uncertainty and I’m certain I’ll continue to be

Sought Out

My voice rings back, as I say that I am for or against
I wonder if my opinion could weigh heavy enough to change another’s mind
It seems impossible, to trust that revelation could come with time

I told you that it feels like another life
With out you, I know joy for what it really is
A sorrowful understanding that the answer does not exist within

I want to stretch out my deepest feelings to reach you,
There is an abundant amount of hopelessness here
and I remember it in the quiet gaps of time that announce
their presence in the movement of air thrown from a ceiling fan

I’m taking these steps in front of me with a fearful
realization that I’m moving further away from you
but it’s true, this movement is long overdue and I am
now seeking out obedience for its redemption and necessity

There’s a newness here, I am believing it to be good
but with change comes a constant voice of uncertainty
Let my voice be small and far away, Let Your voice be
like the clouds that hover over rolling hills and relieve
hot skin from harsh sunlight

I’ve sought out a savior and in you I’ve found,
All that’s behind and ahead is alright somehow
In my moments of anxious thoughts and furrowed brow,
let your voice be clear, let your voice be loud

I’ve sought out a savior and in you I’ve seen,
All that’s above and below is greater than me
In my moments of discontent and guilt feeling,
let your presence be known, let your peace find me

the practicality of living during sadness, in the mundane

On the days that you can,
Do Not Lose Yourself In The Mundane
On the days that you can’t,
still wake up, fix your bed
make yourself breakfast, toast and eggs
open the windows even if it’s hot,
especially when it’s cold

On the days that you can
build something –
use words that build up each person around you
and if there is no one around you,
still speak aloud of the things that are good
Identify your heart and the ability it has to fold
beneath emotion and pressure
Recognize that you are existing and
that is enough some days

On the days that you can’t,
Don’t watch the television, read books
and if you’ve got to rest, watch a good film,
one made before 1970

Let yourself dream about the future,
but don’t get lost in it
Think about how you’ll someday have a home
With a kitchen that has windows from ceiling to ground
You’ll think about the places you will travel to,
the people you might meet
Dream about the future, but not with intent to forget the past
Dream about the future, but do not stop living now

Walk outside, crunch leaves under your feet
And breathe in
Stop feeling guilty for being sad
stop feeling guilty for feeling guilty

Let gratitude invade the parts of your mind
where there is no thankfulness left

When you have to go to work
Let your eyes see what they haven’t looked at before
When you are driving,
listen to The Beach Boys, or the soundtrack
to your favorite film

Drink Coffee, Eat Bread, Go Somewhere
Be alone

Don’t attempt to muffle your sadness with the company
of people who do not acknowledge that it is there,
or people who talk about other people

If you can be with friends, be with them
but know it is not worthwhile if when you come home
you feel more distant than when you left earlier that day
There are people who are for you, find them

When you are alone,
write down everything you’d like to do
(but it’s alright if you can’t do it all)
Don’t try to improve yourself for the sake of being better,
come to terms with defeat and the fragility of  yourself
and then look up
You’re made whole, if you want to be

If you begin to feel restless, or purposeless
Don’t try to move fast all of the sudden
Pick up one thing at a time
Take each day by itself

When you look at a calendar,
and it’s numbers are glaring back at you
and it’s weeks are overwhelming
Remember that there have been many days before this,
and you are not the one who has to call the sun to rise

Listen to good music,
the kind that makes you feel a part of it
become familiar with lyrics and tones
and learn about the people behind the noise

Take photographs and keep them to yourself,
get them printed and when you go to pick them up
look at them in a parked car before you drive to the next place,
Realize that you’re creating a world that no one else has seen before

Some times it will all be overwhelming,
Other times it will all be stagnant
sometimes the idea of “there’s nothing you can do about it”
will be relieving, other times it will be a defeat

The practicality of living during sadness, in the mundane
Hold onto the idea that vitality is a real thing

// written on November 6th, 2015

Lifestyle2-ELT_Photo

an excavation in three parts

1.

I’ve got a hot glue gun on,
and melting as we speak
let’s make it brief

The excavation of habit
is like ridding myself of comfort
I am consistently made to feel
incomplete and lacking
I am tempted to say that it would be better
to have always been alone than to
have had anyone at all

Regret is a selfish thing
it only takes what it knows you need
the closure that you believed you held
the happiness that you swore was eternal
but it’ll give all reasoning a place to be secret
to hide away as you gnaw at raw memory

There is a place where I go to read up on my past
see, memories are relivable
but they should only have one life
yes, memories become ghosts
when you don’t let them go

I’d rather be terrified forever
than live with this ache
when I began it was an honest attempt
to write without letting you surface
but you’re on the surface and deep within
there is no in between
you’re on the ocean, you’re in the snow
you’re up in the woods, wherever I go

2.

I want to get the silhouette of a dogwood tattooed on my forearms
want to live in an old house by the sea

I want to accept relentless pull to tragedy
it’s not easy being happy

I want to call out your name
until it becomes stale on my tongue
And I don’t like the taste anymore
will I ever hate it the way I wish I would

Anger is a conscious decision
I try to make it over and over again
Righteous anger is a distraction
I wish I chose to partake in

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SPEAKS
loud and intuitively,
you haven’t changed
but I am not the same,
that had to be the reason that had to be enough

3.

When I met you, I did not know
that you would excavate my heart like the furthest indent of a field filled high with fossils
you took a part my being
with your own two hands, you broke me up into pieces

When I met you, I could not tell
that your soul was like eggshells and I could break you up
so easily, the quicker you came to know me
I didn’t know that feelings like this were tangible

Your voice reminds me of an orchestra
your hands are like the month of September
and I don’t like when you are far away
you’re never close enough

Are leftover memories enough to sustain me?
I’m almost convinced that I am unsustainable no matter the circumstance
that whether I am whole or in half
this kind of thing will never leave but
how could I let it last

eyeseeyou

joy is not distraction

joy is not immersing yourself in distraction
it is being devoted to what is happening right at that moment
letting your insides be swallowed up by your surroundings
keeping your eyes fixed on the goodness that doesn’t always prevail in circumstance

community is not overrated
friendship is vital
I believe in solitude
in breathing alone, not having to be concerned
over the impact of your exhale
I am alone always in some way
but relationship lets you learn yourself
and most of all leads you to thinking outside of your head
your existence isn’t the only thing moving
take a look at catastrophe- you’ll see the very essence of life turning
out of your control, you don’t have control

letting go
is like losing
but being with out burden is a tremendous thing
like cutting ties with all heaviness
breaking off ropes and vines that itch

lies turn into deceit
honesty is more valuable than any freedom you believe you will gain with fabrication
honesty is liberation, and consequence may follow but at least you can sustain truth

every part of me is in spirals
I feel that moment when I ran on the beach, I had a friend with me
darkness blacker than coal
waves larger than the world
when I let go, you did too
I want to live every evening like that, carrying all my frustarations
and dropping them into the sea

every part of me is in spirals
I feel that laughter that was out lived by sorrow
but it was so much sweeter because we knew pain

every part of me is in spirals
I feel that film in the black box
watching destruction emerge from a civilized nation
feeling so weak beneath the strength of numbers
all I could think – It’s out of our control
all I could believe in was tragedy and distortion

JOY IS NOT IMMERSING YOURSELF IN DISTRACTION
I’ll say it again because I really believe it-
in relationship and honesty, I’m a complete advocate
I feel it in my bones that I was created for the sole purpose
of accepting the absurdity of my small insanity
and putting the sorrow aside, all for vitality

It takes sadness to feel joy
anxiety to feel peace
anger to feel complacency
stay with me

Inspiration is a choice
and it is often disabling
I find myself piling my own limbs into my bedroom
dense like honey
weighed down by desire to live out
an inspired and productive existence
but the compelling effects of compassion
and the appetite for a wholesome substance
can be made healthy

(define healthy: contributing, existing, enjoying)

faith is also necessary,
I do not care what they say
my whole self is wrapped up in salvation,
do we not all feel that we need to be saved from something?

save me from selfishness, save me from greed
strip me of anxiety, steal me from defeat

joy is not a synonym for happiness
it’s rooted in the core of your teeth, but not always stretched into a smile
let noise culture your memories
it’s okay to be reminded of different times
discomfort can be followed by a deeper appreciation

I miss you, and you
but I’ll let this song play out because it was good then
and goodness can last for as long as I live
I believe it

running empty of words but
joy is not perfection
it’s not some falsely identified character trait
handed off to the person laughing the loudest in the room
joy does not burn like a cigarette
it can’t be caught by figurative language
but only felt at the end of a night
when circumstance does not make up the
entirety of a soul
it lasts longer than burning tobacco
longer than flooding inspiration
longer than instant gratification
the moment you realize control is not an option
and letting go is the only thing worth while
joy will sound different when it rolls off your tongue
less like a foreign idea and more like family

all I want is for you to know my
heart has been hanging by a thread but
I’m starting to wrap some rope around it
It won’t be loose forever
my
memory, for me,
will never become water beneath the bridge but
this idea of tragedy is coming closer to a current
this inspiration has caught me off guard
and I am ready to pick up and go again
because
joy is being devoted
to what is happening at this very moment
when circumstance has formed an ache
I’ll shake off this gloom and speak

joyis

 

unseen

sometimes I think of stories,
ones that I’ve never read before
but they play out like a film in my head
projecting onto white walls, all clean

and with cleanliness comes purity,
I’m reminded of the way everything became dirty
It was raining when you left,
I dropped my heart into a long, far a way, crack

It’s sorrow ran deep, like sharp knives
carving out meat
and with moments of tragedy
I’m brought back to reality

sometimes I think of songs
lyrics that I’ve known all along
but they sing out like a record on my heart
spinning quick, throwing shadows at the dark

and woven into every word that I write,
is a trace of you, and now of him
because I hang on to my losses like an addict
inhales the last drag of a cigarette

what is gone makes up who I am
and I’ve not once thought this positive
but if it weren’t for sorrow
I’d never have joy
and if it weren’t for solitude
I’d never know more

bitterness doesn’t taste good on an empty stomach
so I better not be bitter
sweetness doesn’t feel right without you
but I don’t like the sour

how many times can you fall to your knees
or cover your face on the highway
who would think more of happiness when it’s fleeting
and sadness defeating, long, lasting, whole

It’s only worth vitality if the hope you are reaching
is more than temporary
and I always find myself forgetting
that faith is greater than the constellations
so sadness, is tangible
and feeling hollow, is true
but for all these losses I’ve counted,
that I’ve held up as my identification,
I’ll lay them low right now

even if I grab them back up tomorrow,
I’ll rest in the unseen for as long as I can
because even when perception became all broken up
I always felt there was hope left

and now I think of october,
like dried up nectarines and growing colder
but I still love the color of the leaves
did you know, they too leave the trees?

If everything would stay the same,
I don’t think there would be beauty at all
we’d be tied up by our ribs
pressing in on our growing hearts
If everything was easy to hold
we’d let our fingers become a rotten mold
taking memories that were never meant to be ours
taking lives from youth, to old, to stars with out ever letting
an october, pass up its colors and its scars.

ripple effect

Why do the sounds make their own emotions,
ripple effect and creeping notions?
Who gave them personality, and riddled these notes
with sorrow, sadness, and grieving

Who took the noise and made it into song,
my voice stands unclean in a sea
of salty tears and breaking glass bottles and
brevity never seemed so subtle before

And who made beautiful into bittersweet syllables,
like you know that beauty entails more than sight
it takes a part all of your senses
smell, touch, and hearing

So I ask, why do the sounds make their own emotions,
like there aren’t enough feelings already going around
and who decided that this beauty would
forever be crisply coating my insides
all of my organs are laced with faint sorrow
derived from the beautiful, that is tart on its own now

When will my words ever make sense,
cohesive. together, and lacking mess
I’ve made a mess of all emotion
taking hope and smothering it in reality
taking love and wrapping it in sanity

When I make my love into a monument
will you stand tall to reach the top of it
when I make my heart irrelevant
will you be there to grab a hold of it

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