What are you in the mood for?

I've been sitting here reading poetry I've written over the years.  Some of it I haven't read in a long time and it almost shocked me because it was not that long ago that my life was so different.  So empty.  So full of depression and despair.

So if you are in the mood for something heavy, I am going to share a poem here that is no longer me, and I am thankful for that.

If you are in the mood for something light, I shared a very cool story about how K's friends took him to the Smashing Pumpkins concert the other day.  How could that be you ask, he's still in jail!  Well you'll have to check out my music blog to find out.  I'm still grinning thinking about it :)  Its at Layla's Classic Rock.

Totally and completely alone. Not one shoulder to cry on. Can I turn to the One who claims to comfort? Why is He not enough? I've alienated everyone from my life. Hurt them, angered them, used up their patience. 

I've done this to myself like the slow drag of the blade across my wrist. Very carefully monitoring how deep it will go - will I let it injure, or kill? I was never meant for this world. Born defective, too many raw emotions like ruptured nerve endings. Pain. Sharp, excruciatingly, indeterminable and unstoppable. 

Others shake their heads and don't understand. Heroin owns its victims as loneliness owns me. I can be in a room full of people or in the back alley - I'm still alone. 

They pay for head I pay for hugs, I'm still alone. 

Words mean nothing. They lead you along but you know they are empty and fake. 

You choose to keep walking the plank till you get to the end and plunge. The sharks have been circling. Let them devour me - at least it’s not obvious, did I slip or did I jump? Blood in the water, shreds of flesh and bone. What's left of a sensitive soul. They laugh at the red stained spot where the sharks have fed. She asked for it. She always was a bit off, a bit too needy, a bit too sensitive and way too willing to give herself away. 

Hundreds of times over an over again begging for love exchanging the tangible for nothing more than whispers in the dark. Waking to cold damp sheets. Never giving up. Using her only commodity till the well ran dry. Looking for the living water. Why wasn't it enough? Change was suppose to happen. A new creation - what about the butterfly emerging from the caterpillar? What about the cross and the forgiveness of sin? What about that One Man who was suppose to save them all?

If only this were a dream with an end. If only tomorrow would never come. To wake up in peace. Feel hope warm me like a blanket right out of the dryer. Clean and soft. Nurturing. 

Ripped, oily rags covered with dirt. Cardboard boxes for shelter. Empty syringe, broken glass, trash. Just let me go back to where I belong. I understand the vacant stares of empty minds. Pain is mingled with survival but no one feels a thing. It all just drifts away. The cold hard cement. The urine scented hallway. The whimpering cries of the slaves. It's all the same. A lonely cold existence in a falsely warm world.