Even when you’re still/
silent, you, still, strike my chords/
and remain my muse.
OR
Even when you are/
silent, you strike my heart’s chords/
and become my muse.
Even when you’re still/
silent, you, still, strike my chords/
and remain my muse.
OR
Even when you are/
silent, you strike my heart’s chords/
and become my muse.
Because I forgot/
lunch, I shall feast only on/
your words and be filled.
Is it okay
in the middle of the day
to say
my thirst for you is not abated:
I remain,
by you,
twitterpated?
There are many who have done
far worse things
than I have,
who have lived lives
unbecoming of what they should be,
who falsify what
they say they represent,
who are punished less than me.
They don’t care.
When I stand before the great bar,
with my mistakes,
and my sins,
and my lies,
and all the things that I’ve done wrong,
those wrongs which I have tried
so hard
to admit,
acknowledge
accept
and repent of,
will He who is
the great Judge of all look upon me
more kindly
and with more mercy
than He looks at them?
I don’t care.
There was a moment/
when I was supposed to wait./
I didn’t, okay?
As I gazed at her/
new hairstyle, tan, smile, style, look, /
my heart lept with joy!
I believe I am growing
in my awesomeness.
I know what things I must do
to become even more awesomer.
So why, then, do I stand
in fear and awe
at the simple things
that lay,
like cowering dogs,
at my feet?
Simple phone calls,
forms to write,
files to submit,
questions to ask.
Why do I fear,
procrastinate,
and have the simple
make my life
more painful
and complex,
and let those
stumbling blocks
take away
opportunities
for Awesomeness,
instead of letting me
leap over them
and be out, standing
awesome
in my awesomeness?
Why do I seem good/
at “getting on with life”? I /
don’t know I have to.