Home

She wants to go home... the only one she's ever known. The place that forced her to see she'd grown... she wants to go home.

She'll smile and say she's happy... and for a moment, she might be. But soon she'll find she's lying... or perhaps, the truth she just can't see.

She wants to go home... the only one she's ever known. The place that forced to see she'd grown... she wants to go home.

She knows where home is... and she knows the way, but she still can't find it, even searching all her yesterdays...

And tomorrow she's still gonna say... She wants to go home. She needs to find home.

Picture Perfect Past

She lives most of her life in the present moment, the future moment, every moment... any moment not to remember the ones from the past. Yet, within each second of the present is a crystal clear picture of the past. And it hurts her soul to let them take center stage in her mind. She does not wish to re-evaluate the moments she let slip by out of fear. Doubt is the worst form of fear, it dominates the body as well as the soul. Doubt clouded judgments and left her shrouded in fear.

And now today is yesterday and tomorrow is today... but yesterday still haunts tomorrow...

Drowning Voices

I struggle with the depths of my convictions. I have never been, nor have I ever tolerated shallow pools, and yet, I realize the tendency for me to drown others in my thought processes. They expect to go wading through and suddenly find the floor gone and themselves sinking fast. So I try to invest in literary devices that help others stay afloat.

Her voice is my own... yet people prefer hers to mine so I use hers more often. She is a flotation device... and sometimes I wish I could just let her drown...