I’d finally gotten into the damn swing of the book I’d been reading for months – on page 164 of Vagabond.
And then, I discovered the Language of Eleven – when I finally got into Stranger Things.
And then – tonight of all nights – the very first page I wrote for a book I started nearly five years ago, finds itself in the second installment of what feels like a series – on page 343 of The Journals of He : Book 2.
Everything just seems to come together in the dead of night at odd hours when everybody else is asleep
But I am not… These are the times, aren’t they?
When conversations go from – “Do you like bread?”
“There was a time things got so dark, I actually wished myself dead…”
What is it about the late nights that make
The desires and vices and evils
I don’t know –
I almost don’t care!
But that is what I long for when I look at you.
When we talk while the sun shines
And everyone’s paying attention
And they’re all eyes –
I wish for 3am
And I wish that I could find you there –
I want to Write without wondering what everyone will say.
I want to Write without filtering my feelings for fear that someone, somewhere will take offense.
I want to Write with the truth in my Heart so that I bleed it out on the page.
I want to Write with a genuine belief that God loves me even with my mess.
Yes, I am aware that I’m a misrepresentation of that belief system.
And yes, I have felt the occasional attack of shame.
Because my thoughts are dark and my imagination is freaky and dirty and my Stories can get twisted and sexy and you may be disturbed by my Poetry –
I know that I cannot stay the same.
I know that – even if you cannot see it, He moves in me.
I know that whatever chaos is inside me, He always has His reasons for creating me this way.
I know that He never intended for me to be any living Soul but me.
I long to Write until I get it done.
I want to Write until I have said what He intended me to.
I will keep Writing what spills of me in self-expression and truth.
I will Write until I am no longer able to . . .
Here I am
Compelled to be myself
And who I am
Leads me down some very
Dark places and I –
In my fear
I try to turn back
But I’m scared
That I won’t be able
To keep a straight face
I was designed this way
For a purpose
Though I have yet to
And I –
Move forward in
A bid to find it
Even when I
Find my truth so
That somehow it’s
All in His timing
And I’ve –
Tried in places to deny
The direction my thoughts
Go late at night
Or in the day
Or every time
But it burdens me
To pretend and lie
Like it’s a crime to
Be a little messy
And a little dirty
And a little dreamy
It’s a capital offence
To swim against the tide
Or remain on the riverbank
For a little while
Know that I cannot expect
To make the right decisions
At every step
Know that one day I’ll find it
The Woman that God
Intended in I . . .