Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The worst word and the worst prayer ever.


When I go to church,
And I say,
Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Does it make it okay?
When I swear on the bible,
Saying that I'd never hurt you.
But then I hurt you the very worst way.
If I say sorry,
Does it make it okay?
If I go to church every Sunday,
And pray every night.
Saying thank you for all I have,
And that I'm sorry for all my sins.
If I do the same things the next day,
Does it make it okay?
Does sorry really mean something?
Is saying sorry doing something?
Or is it just a word?
A word used to fix someone's behavior.
So, all I have to do is say one simple word,
And I have redeemed myself?
Is a memorized prayer doing something?
A bunch of words that have been imprinted into my mind.
Are they something that will forgive all of my sins?
Is a punishment going to make it all better?
Teach you a lesson?
Maybe, sorry is the worst word out there.
And just maybe, "Our Father who art in heaven" is the worst prayer out there.
Because words alone don't make it okay.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Celestial Being.

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You smile at me when I feel small. You smile at me when I feel big. Sometimes, I convince myself that you are not real. That you are from somewhere else inside my mind. But if you were, could I feel it when you hug me? When you kiss me on the forehead and say, "Sweetie, it will be alright. Believe me." I don't believe so. You are not a figment of my imagination. If you aren't, then that makes me come to the conclusion that angels are real. There is no way that a human being can be this amazingly complex and beautiful. It seems to me that you are perfect. But you are imperfect all the same, because you make me feel amazing about my self. I love it when you say, "Don't frown. You don't know how many people would fall in love with your smile." Even when you are not with me, I think of you and feel amazing. I know, I AM AMAZING. No one can tell me otherwise. This is a fact. And you are a celestial being, an angel, you are perfect. And you make up for my imperfectness. But it's my IMPERFECTNESS that makes me amazing.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

I am a bruised apple.

Untitled | Flickr - Photo Sharing!

Today I will fall from the apple tree like everyone else. But no one will pick me from the ground, because I have one bruise and I am not as shiny as the others. People will pick the other shiny ones that have gone through this process before over me. Tonight I will go home, and I will paint green and red over my bruise. I will clean and shine my skin. I will trim my leaves. Tomorrow, I will get picked from the tree. I will get picked because to people, I seem shiny, new, good, and better than yesterday. But it's not satisfying. Not to me. So, tomorrow night I will wash the paint off of my bruise and roll in dirt like I was before. And the next day, I will get picked again. Not by the people who picked me before. But by the girl who sees me as the apple with the bruise. But she doesn't care. Because everyone has bruises. It's just up to you whether you show them or not.

Monday, September 6, 2010

The boy is an actor.



Right now, I will take down the pictures I have painted of you in my mind. Then, I will rebuild the walls I once used to separate myself from you. Once it was not necessary. Now, I want to be as far away from you as possible. Next, I will stay in bed for two days and four hours staring out of the window saying, "Why did I trust him?" He acted like he cared for me, for what? To get the satisfaction of hurting me and breaking me into millions of pieces? He acted like I was the only one. Now everyone knows that that was a lie. A lie. One of many. Why did he say right to my face that he loved me and that he would never cheat on me? Now I can see in his face that he never loved me and that he planned this all along. It's just a big game plan, a play. He had his lines memorized so that when this moment came, he knew what to say. He knew that I would take him back the first time. But what he didn't know, was that I was going to add a surprise ending. He didn't know that when the second time came around, I wouldn't let him come back. He wasn't prepared for that. Not this time. He looks at his script and there's nothing for him to say. Curtains closed.

K'Naan - People Like Me [LIVE]



I love this guy.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Yoga is not a sport.



In America, Yoga has turned into something entirely different than the original I believe. Yoga is not something that keeps you fit. It may tone some mussels, but it's not going to help you lose those 10 pounds you're trying to lose. I like yoga, believe me. But yoga is not a sport or really exercise. It's something spiritual and relaxing. When I do yoga, it's just me trying to free my mind and trying to relax.

Yoga has turned into something else, as you can see...







So, I believe that yoga should be something that you do do calm yourself, and be more of a spiritual thing. Not a so-called sport.








Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Girl Who Cries






1. When I look in the mirror, I see a different face than I saw last night.
She's got a frown on her face, and big fat tears rollin' down from those big grey eyes.
No one understands her, except me. Maybe that's the reason why she cries.
Get a grip. I say. Nobody has to know what's happening inside.

Refrain:
Her heart it caving in inside.
Her soul is drowning from within.
From the heartache, and the trouble.
Sometimes it's all too much.
And she's got to scream.
She's the girl who cries.

2. No one really knows her.
Not even her mother.
Sometimes she wishes she could just disappear into the dust.
Everyone tells her, that they really care.
But they don't. They just think they should.

Refrain:
Her heart it caving in inside.
Her soul is drowning from within.
From the heartache, and the trouble.
Sometimes it's all too much.
And she's got to scream.
She's the girl who cries.

Bridge:
People tell her that they understand.
They try talking to her and holding her hand.
But do they know how it feels to feel so alone,
you just want to burst into dust.

Refrain:
Her heart it caving in inside.
Her soul is drowning from within.
From the heartache, and the trouble.
Sometimes it's all too much.
And she's got to scream.
She's the girl who cries.

When I look in the mirror, I see a different face than I saw last night.

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