slipping by | pt. 8

dear august —

i. our love for each other broke loose as we ventured into greater depths and allowed ourselves to look into into the heart of the other.

ii. he whines and drags his feet, sending her voice to rise and fall with increasing intensity, then snap. and there i sit, bending to accommodate, but whispers cloud my brain. missing out; disregarded; alone; not special anyway. turmoil boils within me. should i have gone? i will never know.

ii. anxiety rose and despair bubbled from within me. things that ought to have been were no longer there. and yet that thought pops up – practice faith instead of projecting with fear – and gives me peace of mind. when disappointments and stress abound, you were my comfort.

ii. she is upset with me. i did it out of love, but i feel she didn’t feel it in return. oh, to think that there will be a time when i will no longer be your mate as i have been all these years. let’s make these times count, dear. i’m sorry.

iii. living a love does life requires daily surrender and conscious effort. thanks for showing me how i need to make love an action verb and not just a state of being.

iii. i feel bleh now that my heart is stable. now i’m not okay with being okay. and life moves on…

v. in the midst of lows and discouragement, you gave me words to say. you put a song in my mouth. you planted seeds of truth that just kept on flowing. and it felt beautiful… and oh, so freeing to be a vessel of assurance. it was not i, but him. keep speaking truth…

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no longer wanna-be

fake it till you make it yell “those” kids
that’s what they all say
maybe that’s how they made it up there

am i right?

i try, try, try
to be someone that i’m not
i’m an oughtta-be, wanna-be, gotta-be
the cycles of strife surge me on

i’m a workaholic, control freak, and perfectionist… to the T

i want to win, win, win
get up on top, feel good about ma self
i find myself bending down
bending myself to win the hearts of people
bending myself to win a little more love

bending myself to win just a little more approval and just a few more scraps of acceptance

but i fail, fail, fail
when i try

to win

maybe instead i should try to be
a serve-aholic instead of a workaholic
and let someone else be in control of me
maybe instead i should
turn to the cross of perfection — at the only true perfectionist

instead of making one out of me

what if instead i embraced myself
for who i am, and for who i will always be —
beloved, for all eternity. 

don’t fake it, honey

you think i can’t tell
but darling…

i can.

you are worth more than rubies

you, precious, never go out of style

won’t you look into my eyes
just remember

baby, you are priceless.

like a ring of solid gold
a smooth and flawless pearl
drawn out from down, down down

refined and raised above all else

don’t bend down, for i have drawn you up
out of deep waters i have pulled you,

calling your precious name

all the voices in your mind
that make you weak inside
don’t belong —
don’t belong
in a place
as beautiful
as you.

words fail me

the shadow of the pen falls
the pen touches the paper

as ink flows out.

words.
an indescribable expression.
something so concrete,

yet abstract.

a shadow clouds my mind as a thought enters.

thoughts. feelings. emotions.

words.
a multitude of ramblings,

so jumbled in my brain.

suffocating.
sinking.
feeling.

still breathing.

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