Light Comes

For my Brother...you are inspiring and so very strong.

Light comes in lonely places,
when the dawn wakes the slumbering soul.
And your fingers fracture the thawing heart
as they clutch each other for warmth.
The look on your face when the first rays of sun
break the darkness, it always makes me inhale my lungs.
It's so quiet.
But a smile comes when the dawn breaks
because for a moment you feared that it never would.
And you would have to lay there,
on your back for the rest of your life.
Wrapped in the blankets like a coffin.
But that glow streaking across the ceiling
lets the blood return to your cheeks.
And the sleeping dead leaves your body
and you are shaken with life to your core.
You made it another night,
that means you made it another day,
and that means you've made it further than ever before.
And the strength inside you does not amount
to any weight you could lift.
It is the strength to rise when all else would have fallen.
So light does really come in the morning,
and darkness shatters when I see that smile on your face.

Here's a song for you:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8b_hngUHB8&ob=av2e

Continue to be strong my brother. Love you.

Let the Jazz carry me

There are many times when
I wish the jazz would just carry me away.
Let the music notes snuggle against my arms
and gently
       t
    f
  i
l
me off the ground.
I want to feel lighter than a kite,
than a bird flying alone at midnight.
I want to let the beat do the thinking for me,
the bass line be my blood line,
and melody will hold me.
Love is something I hold dear
and life goes on
when you start playing our song again.
And though the jazz notes groove me
and shake me to the core,
it never seems to be enough to make me fly.

Of course

He would call you,
of course he would.
I would call you even,
who wouldn't?
But an icy coldness
fills me and fights with
the fiery jealousy breathing in an out of me.
Of course he would call you.
And the sitcom perfect situation occurs:
He likes you,
you like another guy,
and that guy could care less.
And I'm the cooky friend there just to make the laughs.
Falling to the ground when I've had too much to drink,
tags still unknowingly attached to my clothes,
the "Laugh" sign lights up when I am around.
But I don't get an arm wrapped around me on a cold walk home.

Sad Poetry

I think you can see straight through me
when I start writing sad poetry.
It manifests and consumes
and my heart becomes an open book.
You can flip through the pages,
see all the tragedy
scoff at the melodrama
and groan and the melancholy metaphors.
And then you can toss that book aside
on your bed side table
and sleep with sweet dreams.
But that sad poetry
and that inspiration for those words
boils within me
and leaves tiny gashes in my skin.
Because for me that poetry is not simply
a list of pretty words.
It's a fabricated figure
of my hopeless heart
of my shattered confidence
of my lonely existence.
And I feel ridiculous
because I'm not usually one to complain
when all around me are gifts of
laughter, friendship, joy, beauty.
I see it and regret the instant that I spent precious time
writing a sad poem and let the dark overtake me.
Stupid sad poetry,
I write you too much.

Reality Sets in.

Does your heart panic knowing that I am going very far from you?
Does it beat faster and faster as the miles grow between us?
Does it feel a little lonelier as it sinks in that it may be a long time before you see me again?

But I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do next...
The idea if you seems like a hill too steep for me to climb,
an unimaginable fantasy.
because you have the whole world spread out beneath your feet
and I could be just another puddle you stomp over as you walk across the street.
But I can't sleep at night because your eyes are the last eyes I see pierce the fogginess.
And I can see myself doing this over and over again for you.
Driving to Estonia, just to kiss your face, have lunch with your family on a lazy Sunday afternoon and laugh about your odd fondness for country music.
And maybe am I just so desperate that any person with kindness in their heart
and a nice ass
looks like a walking target,
with wedding bands and church bells stapled to them like a hazy fever.
I know you don't want that kind of commitment when you signed our friendship contract,
so that's why I don't know what to do now.
Because suddenly I've started writing sappy
love poetry with you in mind and
I have these silly fantasies of you and I together,
and I wish them into reality with all my heart and soul while I drift into dreams populated with your face.
You are everywhere in my mind.
And once again I'm doing nothing important while I wait for a dream to come true.

But reality sinks in the morning I wake,
and I realize the odds of you feeling the same way are about one in a million
and I just  feel like a fool the rest of the day.

Concrete

If all my love
could be captured in a mason jar
and displayed on a windowsill,
you would realize that it's
glowing and pulsing
fading in and out.
Like a heartbeat.

It's not that I claimed you as mine,
it's that I wish I had the guts to.
A whisper no one else could say,
a dream no one else could think,
a song that no one else knows.
Someone that only I could have.

And I just wait here day after day,
writing poems I pretend to be deep,
when all they scream is that
I just wish someone would claim me like that too.

Maybe it would be like hot breath
pushing on the back of your neck,
or it could be the greatest hug
you've ever felt wrap around you.

You are so cool,
full of something I just can't get,
and good at whatever you do.
I wish I knew what it meant to be something.
And every time you win a battle,
it's like glass in my heart.
Especially because I feel like vapor
and you are like concrete.
I just can't break you,
but you can stop me at everything.

I'm not creative,
I only write poems to try to be like another
person who is solid,
I only play music to be like another wall,
I only cook fancy food to be like another,
concrete.

And everyday I feel like my eyes
are being opened,
and even if that's supposed to be
a good thing it's still numbing to realize
you've been blind all this time,
And like a slap on the face
you see reality in it's blinding glory.
Instantly smaller,
the light overwhelms you.
I hate finding out I was wrong.
When you only want to be right
the first time.
Starting over is just another mile back
mile marker 62.

So there you go,
finally an explicit line never written before:

I want you to be mine.

And I want you to stop talking to him.

And I want you to be cooler than you are.

The case

She may be invisible to your eyes
but to mine, I see her
and how she loathes her body like a curse
and prays every night to shed all
that fat that prevents her from wearing
a pair of skinny jeans.

Moon scar

I will carry with me always,
that crescent shaped cut on my foot
and I will remember what it felt like
to feel lighter than dust
and float through the air.
When it turns into a scar
I will kiss it goodnight
like a scene from a bad movie.
And I will see your face when I close my eyes,
and my heart will shake
and my skin will prickle
as I feel a finger move up and down my spine.
And I can't help myself when I let a smile slip out
or a laugh burst from my rusty lungs
when you strut across my mind
like you own the joint.
Every thought of you is a souvenir
I package up and ship home to
be there
when I get back from a long day.

Today

Today I've done the most liberating thing I have ever done,
I called you,
Heard your voice,
You sounded tired and frustrated,
Just like me.
But I called you anyway and told you,
That I don't think we should talk anymore.

The silence that grew from this created a chasm,
larger than the Grand Canyon.
What took centuries to create, we did it
in a matter of seconds.

Then you acted like the phone was breaking up
and disappeared.
I could have called you back,
and you could have called me back.
But I think we both made a decision
and seared it to our hearts to remember this by.

The last thing I will ever hear from you is
a plea.
And I swear to God,
that will always be the last thing.

Now

Don't count your love in numbers,
because that is only cause for hurt.

Don't hoard away your feelings,
regret eats flesh from the inside out.

Don't stifle your laughs,
let them burst forth to paint the world beautiful colors.

Don't hate yourself for mistakes,
perfection never looked good on you.

Don't hold back,
just let life go on.

A fleeting hope

Squares will play tricks on you,
You'll be looking at them one moment and they have all 4 sides,
and then you'll be looking at them the next moment and all the sudden,
they are circles.

And you can't seem to find the strength to step
over that threshold.
Your knees are shaking and if you think about it too long
you realize that you have made the dumbest decision in your life.

It's easy enough to feel hopeful,
when it's a far off dream,
and all the hours and minutes spent dreaming about it,
are safe.
But when it becomes a reality,
forming into flesh before your very eyes,
all the sudden fear grips you,
and the dreams melt away into an odd uncertainty you never knew before.

And they'll say it will be worth it,
but do they know what it feels like
to be lost for a year
and never know if you'll be found?

Hard Candy

These hard candies shouldn't be chewy but they are
I shouldn't be acting this way but I am.

Failure

The taste of copper thick in your mouth, a heart breaking beat by beat. The pieces will fly into your ribcage and pierce the body surrounding it. And just like that the pain spreads. Without a warning your soul is silently taken from you. Watch it as it is eaten before your very eyes. The soul-juices drip down the dark chin, drip onto the floor and create a sticky puddle. Your soul was fruity and refreshing. If you had a heart anymore it would be racing. If you had a soul anymore it would be breaking. Your knees feel weak and you want to collaspe but something within creates determination to make you stand firm like an ancient ruin. Probably shear stupidity, some type of dumb hope that whispers sugary sweet mockeries in your ear. You have a mushy brain, you have a weak control. You endure, turning bronze and holding a staunch pose, just to survive. The greatest hail cannot move you, nor the most gentile rain soothe you. You are just hollow and cold now.

Needing something a little more soul-restoring today. It's been a weird day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owFFVQYW1p8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p6fwA37LEqA

The heat

It must be the heat or something, because only when it's this sticky-sweet sort of hot do you ache for me. You'll be as cold as the winter to me any other day. But there must be some kind of intrinsic intoxication to sweaty skin and exposed bodies. I'm just trying to escape the heat and your hot breath on me is only making it worse. Panting like a dog, you beg on all fours. Your pathetic tongue drooling out of your mouth, a puddle of your own disgrace gathering at my feet. Sugary-sweet words spew out of you. You are mistaken when you think telling me I'm beautiful will change anything. Yesterday I was the paper you used to wipe your ass. Today, I'm still toilet paper, but I grew some spikes.

White walls

Plastered on the wall, just to break the loud scream of the color white,
is a tiny poster of Che.
His face is made out of "Words that do not match deeds are unimportant."
It's supposed to be ironic.
Your coldness drips into my room, chilly water sapping warmth.
Let it overwhelm me, or leave.
Those are the options I have to count on.
I choose to leave.
Pride could be an issue, but so could broken hearts.
The pieces crunch beneath your feet as you move over me.
No, that wasn't my heart, it was my soul.
Before the white washes over me,
and all the color that once brought life is gone,
I leave you to your own undoing.

Remember, you are free.

Only once a year can one drive late a night and see the sky on fire.
I've often wondered what it would be like to take a plane on this night and fly over the celebrations,
see the explosions rocketing up and illuminating a once overcast place.
I would hope that you could see the faces in the dark light up,
see them laughing, kissing, dancing.
But it is only on this night that this can happen without fear.
Only on this night do we feel some sort of undeniable invincibility,
Only on this night do we remember we are free.

Henna and Chipotle

When I was born, there was slight ringing in my eyes.
It sounded as though a bell was being rung, a bell whose toll moved through all the air currents.
And I had to crawl out of the ground to breathe fresh air again.
I came out of the hot earth and filled my lungs with the cool crisp air of the expanding world.
Mist draped itself over me, and like a welcomed friend embraced the whole of me.
The ringing still bothered me, but suddenly I didn't notice.
I felt like some kind of creature, clawing on all fours, hoping to find some shelter.
It was under a large willow that I came to find my home,
Together, the branches and I and created life. They protected me from rain, heat, wind.
I learned each leave's name and all of them were close to my heart.
It is with my friends I felt connected to some greater power.
It shook within me, an anxious and sticky electricity aching to break free.
I would soon know to call this LOVE.
I knew nothing of fear just yet. And it was pure bliss.
Some would say that the day they were born was the most fearful they have ever experienced.
I say quite the opposite, I say this was the day I realized I was alive, it was wonderful.

My fear for you

What are you doing? Don't you realize that you only have a short amount of time? And still, as the mountain of time caves in around you, you are oddly pulled to those things that just don't seem to matter. You always say that you aspire for higher than mediocre. But to be exceptional you have to move. An apathetic person goes no where, they just don't care. But you would never be fine with just mediocre or stagnation. So why? Why are you doing nothing today?



I wish I could say these things to you today, and as a friend I know I need to. But this is your undertaking and I want so badly for this to be your success. But how do I tell a friend who is so incredibly important to me that they are being lazy?

Grit

Dirt between your finger nails,
grinding underneath.
Scraping and scratching.
Grit between your teeth,
the taste of hot earth in your mouth.
Not a drop of water in sight to wash it all away.
Sand between your toes,
skin crackling from heat and raw dust.
A footprint left behind.

YEATS!!!

I love Yeats more than you can imagine. The way he works with words astounds me. My souls gets fed by him. I have to thank my dear friend Arri for showing me this brilliant man.

"The hour of the waning of love has beset us,
And weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us,
With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow."
W.B.Yeats

Starless Summer Night

In this place you are incubated,
growing into some kind of wonderful the world knows not yet.
There are two pools of mystery sitting stagnant in front of you.
They are your moat, you are guarded here.
Outside, you passed your friends cycling through your home, your neighborhood.
Lights glittered on their porches, casting diamonds across their skin as they warmly laughed.
What a comfort to know they exist on.
What a comfort to know that those you love with every cell in your body laugh together.
Trees overwhelm you in fantastic joy, stretching their branches underneath to carry you.
Water pours out in the distance, trickling on its journey. Its destination unknown even to itself.
The smell of freshness surrounds you and life fills you.
Words of a deeper wisdom than your own fill not only your mind, but your heart.
Go on, walk across that tiny concrete bridge.
You can always come back to this place.
And when you leave, know that you are being a gift to the world itself.

Pledge

Here's my pledge: (it's stupid, but it's really on my heart to say something)

I pledge to be a better employee. I pledge to do less tasks for myself on their time. I pledge to think of them more than I think of myself. I pledge to do my hardest work as fast as I can. I pledge to be a better employee.

A few Beautiful Things People should know

I want so badly to share with everyone some beautiful things that I really support and love. Some organizations are community based and other are international. I just felt it extremely important to spread the word on some of the most important projects (that I know of at least) that are happening around us.

And if any of you lovely readers have a program that you think is super awesome, please share! I would love to share it with you!

ONE Campaign



This is an amazing campaign to make extreme poverty history. I deeply support and believe in its actions. It primarily tries to capture the attention of those in power to truly make a difference. That meaning people in legislative and representative positions. But, that does not mean that an individual person like yourself does not matter, in fact, we are the most important part. It's an organization that needs the voice of every single person to say in one large voice the changes we think should happen in the world. It seeks to aid those in need (primarily in Africa) by giving them the tools needed to cycle themselves out of poverty. It also provides health campaigns to bring preventive measures to the people affected by AIDS/HIV and provide the opportunity for them to heal. They are currently going through a vaccine campaign meant to aid in bringing over simple vaccines for children that could save their lives. A big victory for ONE recently was this campaign they conducted to make sure that President Obama kept funding for international aid in legislation cuts. It was so very successful!

There are a lot of things that ONE is trying to do to make this world a better place. I believe in it so much because it has a higher purpose of compassion and humanity. It is seeking to take the resources that a country like the United States doesn't need anymore and trying to distribute it to people in desparate need for it. It's a beautiful depiction of love in action.

http://www.one.org/us/

Bead for Life



Bead for Life does a lot of work with ONE. It's a beautiful program that employs Ugandan women (at fair and resonable wages) to create unique beads and jewelry. It is programs like these that promote self-suffiency for nations and populations struggling to get out of poverty. This program prevents these women from reverting to harmful lifestyles to support their families. Not only is the jewelry beautiful, it's saved someone's life.

http://www.beadforlife.org/

TOMS



This is starting to get big and I am so glad it is! I just recently bought my own pair. It is a campaign called One for One, which seeks to provide shoes (and now eye-wear) to those who don't have their own. For every pair of TOMS bought they donate a pair to a child that does not have their own. It's a company that was the dream child of just one person. This inspires me to no end. If one person can make such a difference, we know it can be possible for all of us to do the same.

http://www.toms.com/
The A 21 Campaign



Sex-trafficking is one of the most disgusting forms of injustice that exists in this modern world. It ruins lives of thousands of women, men, children and families all over the world. It leads to total disregard of human rights and other forms of enslavement. It breaks my heart to think that a person would wake up any day and feel like the are a commodity. It reminds me to fight for the rights of others and respect their integrity as a fellow human being. Through this organization is a really cool internship where I could go to Moldova, Mumbai or Greece to support coping sex-trafficking victims. You have no idea how much I want to support this cause.

http://www.thea21campaign.org/

The Peace Corps



Before I took this Cold War history class I believed in the purpose of the Peace Corps. And after taking this class I still do. I don't care what politics or rumors surround this organization it still upholds humanity and compassion. It's about bringing better lives to those that our capitalistic system has disenfranchised enough that they will never get out themselves. It's an organization I hope and pray to be a part of.

http://www.peacecorps.gov/

Compassion International



I used to sponsor a child myself, but he moved out of the Compassion zones and I no longer had the opportunity to sponsor him. I haven't had the financial opportunity to sponsor another child, but the second I do I will sign up full-heartedly again. This is a beautiful organization that seeks to provide education and compassion to international children whose families cannot provide that opportunity for them. Education is vital to bringing people to a higher life. I was given the chance to learn, I believe every child should too.

http://www.compassion.com/

Charity: Water



This is a really cool program that raises money to bring clean water to people that do not have access to clean and healthy water. Clean water is crucial to making sure that people can lead healthier and

http://www.charitywater.org/

Atlas Theater

This is my home. It's hard to find the words to describe something that has been so very life-changing to me. Atlas is so much more than just a group of people. It's a community, it's a family, it's a lifestyle. Their mission is to bring light into dark places. They do that and so much more. They have brought me art, color, vibrancy, passion, and most importantly, love. Everyone should have a community like Atlas. It was here where I found my family, my love, myself and my life.

http://www.whatisatlas.com/

So these are just a few of the things I love and support. If any of you have something you support, please share! I'm dying to know!

Deer Crossing

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBcMKwbMEcQ

The flashing lights blinded and distorted what little was left to see.
All there needed to be known was the deer carcass pillowed in white fluorescents at the front of the stage.
It's body lay there lifeless and broken.
Degraded to the point that no one felt it worthwhile enough to move it away from the speeding coffins.
And it passed with a slow and silent gasp of pain.
But if deer could scream, it would have been the most agonizing and chilling cry.

Laundry

The laundry never seems to get folded in this place,
Wrinkles are the sworn enemy,
Yet, it never seems to be enough to motivate anyone to do anything about it.
Instead it sits there,
In a looming pile of wrinkles and mildew,
rotting away as it is believed that their lives are too busy.
Too consumed, too involved
to simply just fold it.

The Walls Come Crumbling Down

Hail to the King and Queen! We yell with a type of blind fervor that we hate.
Heralds of the perfect picture of domesticity,
Continuing the path wrought with children and picket fences,
We fought long and hard for that gilded road covered in perfection.

But we can see the foundation cracking,
And a different type of light is coming through.

I cannot deny that when I heard the news,
A slightly spiteful smile escaped from my face.
I used to think I was to be the Queen.
But I escaped that fate,
Taking up my sword and fighting more courageous battles.
The things I have seen and the adventures I have had are gold themselves,
Now, I can hardly imagine a life with you, your Majesty, possessing me.

I pity the King and Queen,
as their faces turn to ash and the walls of their fortress come crumbling down.
Their faces distort in anger as all they thought was secure is shaken.

We live is insecure times,
The concept to perfection to which you cling, is dead.

This is the community I live in

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kguzdMSFRes&feature=player_embedded

So incredibly thankful and blessed that I can say I know a community where beauty like this can be created. Super proud of you Greeley, Colorado. Not only have you changed my life, you are changing the lives of so many others.

Tread Softly

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet,

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats

The Abolition of Resentment

"I have forgotten where the hatchet is buried"

I don't even know what to say. All I know is I need to just let it go.

The Male Gaze

By Barbara Kruger

"The girl in the household is taking a lot longer to get ready, as usual." The class erupts into laughter. It's funny because it's just so typical of the old structures of ideology to assume that women take longer to get ready. It's so old fashioned, so, NOT post-modern. It's funny because we all assume we live in a much more progressive society, where men and women take just as long to get ready. It's funny because in this day and age women are not placed in that category. It's funny because we have triumphed over the dusty systems of the past, we are better than that.

But yet, there is an uncomfortable undertone growing in the pit of your stomach between the giggles. A certain fear to admit that you still assume women take longer to get ready. I mean, who could blame you for that assumption? You've lived with a mother at one point in time. She would always take years to primp herself to go out. Your girlfriend has to start getting for your date 2 hours in advanced because it takes her that long to shave her legs perfectly. And you realize, you are only laughing at the absurdity because you have to.

Meanwhile, one of the only women in the class is laughing too. But in her stomach a ball of concern is growing too. Little do you know that its actually panic. Her heart is racing because she believes she laughed just a little too hard at that joke. She looks around with a grin plastered to her face, luckily no one seems to be making eye-contact with her at the moment. She doesn't feel too extreme. But she still has the scars from being called that one horrible word, FEMINIST. That word is painted to her like an unforgiving adulturous A. She remembers the realization that came with that word, the realization that it was just joke to them. The moment she gained the label it's like no one listened to her anymore. It became a category within itself, "Of course a woman would be a feminist. How typical." So, she stresses daily over trying to seem moderate enough for them. Don't laugh to hard when they bring up the systems of the old, you might seem too victorious. It's easy to brush off the words of an extremist. And don't remain completely silent either, then you'll just seem like a fuddy-duddy conservative, recalling the 1950s era as the golden age. So she laughs (not too loud) in hopes of pleasing all of those around her.

Things are Changing

The moments we remembered flash in light as the bulb captures and stamps it to light-sensitive paper for us.

We could cling to those mementos forever if we wanted to.

But how could you really capture the sound of your laugh ringing on my ears, the smell of the air, or the way our clothes felt on our skin?

Is it really worth it then to try to record every moemnt on a piece of paper when in the end we know it will never really be the same?

Especially when I know tomorrow these moments will be miles away from you and I.

Oh, I can feel it in my bones. Times are changing.

Mid-year goals for 2011

Need to revamp some goals for myself:

1. Stand for something.
2. Increase your confidence.
3. Love even when it hurts.
4. Be a good person.
5. Think less about yourself.
6. Create something.
7. Laugh more than you cry.
8. Let it go.
9. Know that you are loved.
10. Worry about important things.

I'm trying to pull my mind out of itself. I want to expand it to always automatically think of others before myself. I want to become a more confident woman, I want to love unconditionally, I want to be stronger, I want to stand for something. I want to grow, I want to become Sarah Hanselin now. I want to worry less about things that really aren't important (like what others are doing or what they feel about me). I'm ready to live life a little more vibrantly. I pray that I can become a better person and live life a little more fully.

Remember this:

1. You are not a bad person.
2. It doesn't really matter in the end.
3. Life is what you make it.
4. A smile is always the best answer.
5. Don't be reckless with your heart.
6. You are worth it.
7. You are strong enough.
8. You are loved.
9. Life is not measured in numbers.
10. Don't be so hard on yourself.

Sonnet for a Rainbow

All I have now are the pieces,
but I see the rainbow streak across the sky.
The pieces rattle between my fingers,
shaking as I fear what I have now.
There wasn't much before,
But all I have now are the pieces.
I strike out and burn the pieces,
they burn until they are powder.
Their ash will build the memorial,
their ash will be the concrete between the bricks.
I don't care what the pieces were before.
I don't care what image they made,
now they are something completely new.
And I see the rainbow streak across the sky.

Fantasy 2

You don't remember me at all. And why would you? We were friends so long ago that the days we spent together melt away into a lump of sweaty recesses and peanut butter banana sandwiches. You had so many friends then, I'm just another one of those faces you stuggle to put a name to now.

But I remember what I felt about you.

They say it should be impossible for kids to know what love is, but I like being the exception. Can you deny that it is love when still to this day, twenty years later, I can still remember the way the ribbon in your hair made your eyes shine so bright?

I'm taking another girl out for dinner tonight. The same usual thing; dinner at a stuffy over-priced place, stroll through a park, "impromptu" movie, and walking her to her door. She'll tell me how wonderful the night was, aching to drag me through the threshold. And I'll stand there, with my dumb sly smile and hands tucked away in my pockets, telling her that I think she is really special and that is why we should wait. I won't call her after tonight. I will make sure never to see her again for the rest of my life. I'll go home to an empty apartment, grab a glass of wine and stare out into the city dreaming of you. I've broken a lot of hearts, and I know this, but all this time I have just been waiting for you to walk back into my life.

I've been holding my breath. Listening more intently than everyone else to hear your voice one more time. Time and childhood just happened to separate us, which I regret more than anything else in this world. I won't forget how your wobbly knees were always covered in scraps and brusies. I won't forget that your favorite shoes were those plastic pink sandals with the paw prints covering one of the straps. I won't forget that devious grin you always had right before you pinched my skin. You smelled of crayons, sunshine, and dirt. To me, that was the best smell in the world.

I often wonder where you are now. I have dreams of running into you in the wildest places. The grocery store down the street; you are buying strawberries and Cool Whip and I hold a frozen pizza under my arm. At my favorite coffee shop, you are justing sitting there reading in my favorite chair. I've even imagined waking up beside you with the largest smile on my face.

But I don't know where you are. I don't know if you have someone else in your life, you might even have a family. I hope your kids have that same glossy brown hair I have loved so deeply in my dreams.

Maybe you are a teacher, you always said you wanted to be like Mrs. Able, our third grade teacher who read us Harry Potter on rainy afternoons. Or maybe you are a doctor, you were always better at science than me. Or maybe you are an international world traveler. I can just picture you, with that huge grin, taking in every moment of life.

I don't ever picture bad moments happening to you. It might be just the disillusion of a lonesome soul or it could be that you brought so much joy to my life I would only hope everyday of your life would be the same. I know I love you. I have known since we were five-years old. And one day, I will be able to tell that to you in person.  

Exam

On darkly luminate nights
they come to examine the souls.
There is this air of uncomfortable judgement,
one by one souls stand before them.
The words squirm out of their foul mouths,
breaths a mixture of rotten flesh and hate,
"What did you stand for?"

Some find the words very powerfully;
"I lived the American Dream."
"I lived for my kids."
"I was successful in everything I did."
And still, they shake their heads and said,
"Empty."
What a crushing blow the souls felt,
as they tumbled and cascaded to their void of reality.

Others were honest;
"I lived for nothing."
"I hated every single day."
"I wish I had an answer for you."
At least they chose honor at the final moments,
and it became more of a hushed acceptance,
as the void sucked in their already empty life.

And finally, the true souls shown through;
"I loved greater than I have ever known."
"I saw the wonders of the world."
"I made sure to help others who were in need."
With a growl they had to shrink away,
the light the souls carried within them
made the night wither away.

Serenity

It's when the cotton floats like snow on the air,
and yet the summer sun still kisses your skin.
You look out your window
and for a brief moment both seasons converge.
Light surrounds your eyes
as the white puffs dance through the air.
They cover the ground in a dusty sense of duty
and for a moment you remember the time you just came from.
The white covers all the blemishes of the world
and you feel pure again.

Fantasy 1

Like clockwork, you stroll by everyday. Planted on your face is this expression of determination. It creases the line on your forehead, makes your eyes seem slightly sharper, and makes your strides more forceful. I can never understand why you wear this expression daily. It doesn't make you ugly; I don't think anything could do that to your face. It just makes you look more distant from me.

Not that we were ever close. Though, I wish I had the courage to change that.

You probably have a million other things on your mind. I wish I knew what they were. A lightening bolt of fear strikes me in the core, what if those thoughts are bad? Do you need me? You don't look the type to need a knight in shining armor, but I would like to be yours.

But this is all a fantasy made up in my head. Why would you; strolling by in your broken flip-flops and headphones blocking out the world, ever notice a guy like me? And I'm being a little overly romantic aren't I? Imagining a whirl-wind romance between two people that barely know each other. I guess I'm just as desperate as the rest of the world to find love. Although, when I see you I just can't help seeing that in my head. True love, I only see true love. It's a sickness. There is just something about you. It's in the way that your eyes seem to take in the world in a more profound way. It's in the way your body moves like it's dancing to an ancient song. There is some primal enchantment that sticks to your very presence. And no, it's not just sex. I think this is what soul mates feel when they see the other. It's this instaneous pull towards you that controls my every action.

You think with that kind of power you have over me, I would have talked to you by now. But everyday like clockwork, there you pass. Pressing the crosswalk button and gently swaying to your music waiting for the light to change. You walk off, past the point where I can see you. And everyday, like clockwork, I know I let a chance go.

Bring you with me

There was a joy that bloomed in my heart today when I saw you. We are not even to the point of being able to say hello yet, but you held in you hand a book that I love. I wanted so badly to tell you that, but I let that moment go. I don't regret it, not yet anyway. I feel like there will be many more moments to tell you how great that book is.

Have you ever had a moment where you know you have met someone who is going to be life-changing to you? My mind wants to write it off immediately as something ridiculous. How could I ever know I met someone who would completely morph my life into a different thing? Especially if I don't even know his last name yet. More than ever now, I feel it's ridiculous because what if I am just being that hopeless romantic I can be sometimes?

But he is different, I met him and I just knew. Either this guy is going to be one of the closest friends I have ever had or I'm just crazy. Which crazy could be a large possibilty too. And let's not forget the prevailing desparation that has been plaguing my daily thoughts and actions. That could play a minor role too.

But really, there's something about this guy that feels like we are drawn together. Like we would be so good for each other and that we are going to go on adventures together. I feel like we could grow together. It helps knowing that we are going to be spending 11 days together in the Yucatan. Guess we will just have to see.

We don't Speak often

But I need you so badly right now,
I do not have the strength.
I do not have the energy.
They say you do.
Help.

The Card in your Mailbox

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7orcS9eBo8s

That card is not simply a testament to an awkward friendship,
it is also a sign of my greatest weakness.

Abba

The lines of your face
     are the stories of
     your greatest joys
     and sorrows.
I could only hope that
     my name was worked
     into those wrinkles
     on your face.
I remember the first
     lesson you taught me
     when you were gone long
     nights installing an
     air conditioner in
     an old woman's house.
I remember when you
     taught me how to laugh,
     the summer's cool air
     kissed my skin and the
     lights danced around your
     face, as the stories poured
     out of you.
I remember seeing you that
     whole night I lay awake
     burning with fever, you
     could not sleep and waited
     for the dawn to bring peace.
I remember that first dance
     we had together, you never
     dance, but you would dance
     for me.
I remember you crying the
     day I left you. But I
     didn't really leave you from
     my heart.
I remember thr day that you
     told me of the ugliness of the
     world, but the you held me
     and all felt right.

Desperate

My eyes could not read fast enough,
the words you scribbled out on the page.
I read them over and over again,
hoping that the kind sentiments you spewed before
would somehow manifest into something real.
You said such nice things,
and yet your actions speak another language.
There is this certain amount of coldness
that heavily weighs on your shoulders.
It brings your whole life down. It sinks your whole soul.

I feel my life draining from my fingertips
as I realize what exactly you were truly saying.
I just add it to another heartbreak.
Throw the paper on the growing pile of let downs.

They say that in order to make it
you have to have a thick skin.
It has to bounce off of you like it never happened.
I'm frightened to let that happen.
Because if I get a thick skin,
maybe I won't feel anything anymore.
Including love.

Anthem

I forever think this will be my anthem. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZhQOvvV45w

Enjoy!  :)

Hated

The scar tissue screams when it's ripped from the body.
Then it is tossed aside like moldy garbage, forgotten moments later.
You go on about your life,
and there I am, gasping for breath
My red ribs still exposed,
an empty void where a heart used to live.
Salty tears well up as my mind realizes what just happened.
It doesn't hurt yet, but little do I know, I am still dying.
Death spreads it spindly hands over me, and squeezes every cell until it bursts.
I can still see you for a little while, off in a corner in this vast world
you refuse to call for help.
To think, if you had just told someone
I still might have been alive today.

Color Blind

What colors do you see that I do not?
Is there some hue of blue I never have seen?
Does it explode in the eye,
or sink in the soul?
Does everyone else see this color,
and I'm the only one?
Or is it a color that I never knew
existed in the first place?
Can you describe it to me?
"Well it moves, and it's vibrant,
and it jumps and it's silent
and it loves and it's the color of lightness."
But what does that all mean?
What if I don't see the same colors you see at all?
What is color?

Before You Died

"with all of this bad fucking luck something good needs to come my way"
These are the last words I know you said.
These were the words that you let stain your lips.
These are the words that you let us keep.
There are the words that we will remember you by.

Alley Cat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Da6bBKLPEGg

One of my favorite things to do
is wander through the alleyways of this old town.
I take my camera with me
and try to capture all the things that people think they hide.
I can see their backyards,
and I feel like I'm spying on some private sector of their lives.
Sometimes I see things people never thought I would,
a shattered pot, in pieces by the road.
And old photo, one half burned away.
A rusty license plate from Missouri.
A flaking mural painted by grandma years ago on the garage door.
I especially like to do this when it is cloudy out,
then I can allow that melancholy feeling I get
wash over me
as I spy on the most forgotten aspects of our lives.

Wasting time

The worst feeling in the world is
when you wake up and a cold bolt runs straight through you.
It's after you look at the clock,
and the glaring digital eyes scorn you.
You can try to apologize,
but that will never reverse the crime you've committed.
Go ahead, try to say to yourself that you can find more,
that somewhere in your day you can reknit the fabric of time.
But it's like being attached to a sinking anchor,
as you are dragged further underneath.

Raisin Bran Crunch

In my own type of silent rebellion today,
I pulled out the box you labeled "your cereal".

I don't even like raisins, but I don't care.

And as I poured out those crunchy flakes into my own bowl,
I felt the exhilarating sense of freedom,
If we didn't have milk, I would eat it with my bare hands.
This bowl of cereal is one boundary I can overstep,
something I can do to make you uncomfortable.
And now there's nothing you can do about it.
Some deep part of me hopes that you get angry over this,
or have any type of reaction at all.
And as I chew the flakes slowly in my mouth,
alone in our living room,
I can't help but feel more uncomfortable than I have felt before.

Confiteor

I confess to almighty God

and to you, my brothers and sisters,

that I have greatly sinned,

in my thoughts and in my words,

in what I have done and in what I have failed to do,

through my fault, through my fault,

through my most grievous fault;

therefore I ask you, my brothers and sisters,

to pray for me to the Lord our God.

I am a wanderer.

I cannot find rest, and yet, I cannot wake.

I can be happy, but then I am hurt.

I do nothing, but dream I do everything,

And cannot face the reality when it stares me in the face.

I love it when you succeed and when you fail.

I want nothing to change,

And I won’t change myself.

I am angry more than merciful,

I am despiteful more than content.

These things I confess to you;

I want so badly to get my head out of the clouds.

Coffin

It longs to be in the ground,
like the heart longs to beat.
It stretches its roots, searching,
but the wall will not break.
This is its only option,
this is its dwelling place.
But not really home.

Late Tonight

I placed the letter underneath your door, I had to creep down the stairs as silently as possible to do so. My heart is in my chest, racing. It glides under the frame and I say a silent prayer. “Please, do not let this be the end of it all.” The darkness of the night engulfs my figure. Now, more than ever I feel the loneliness of your touch in my life. Do you know, my friend, that I stand outside your door right now? Do you know that I’ve given my all to be the best person I can be in your life? Do you know that that I feared I failed? It is cold on so many levels tonight. You sleep on the other side of the door, I can hear you breathing. At least I can have that comfort in this world. You can take this all from me, but at least you cannot take my breath. Just one lost individual in the dark tonight. I could only pray for the light to return in the dawning of the new day.

The Difference between what we see and what is Real

Smoke filled the air today.
There's that annoying Burger King
down the street that we usually blame.

But there seemed to be a different scent
clinging to the haze.
It wasn't greasy or flavored like a Whopper.
There was some kind of spice we couldn't recognize.
We drove, walked, biked and lived past it.
Assuming that the smoke was nothing,
It was not until the flashing lights,
loud alarms, running men, thrashing flames,
that we realized it was actually the house
down the street.

We gathered around in a silenced fear,
that smoke we smelled was the smell of
burning wedding photos,
a child's stuffed animal,
an antique china cabinet,
a priceless suit,
a favorite chair.

Aha

There is a moment, when
like a flood light,
all the rooms in your mind are smothered
in clarity.
The bleaching light overcasts
every old piece of furniture and outdated
printer in its glow.
Every nook and cranny
holds its breath as the gaze of this light
seeks them out.
You have heard of this moment,
probably not more than twice in your whole life.
You've been told its a rare thing,
you've always thought of it that way.
Who would want that?
When you really start thinking about it.
Who would want all those years of
neglect laid out before their very eyes.
The dust piled high, thick in its many years
of life.
Some things have been there longer than others,
some have more dust than others.
The light can make it look dirty,
or it can show the fingerprints you've placed all over it.
The only testament to how many times
you have reached for this.
The fingerprints are the only things,
besides yourself of course,
that really know how much you've
thought about this thing.
Don't worry though,
the light is a blessed moment.
Because now, no longer,
are you constrained.
What the light has seen,
the light has taken.

I just auditioned this piece for an art show! Wish me luck, I'm really hoping it will make it!

The Persistence of Memory

This is a response piece to Salvador Dali's piece "The Persistence of Memory"

What does your face look like?
I open my mouth to say something,
but there I stand,
stunned.
I cannot remember.
A crack is heard all around me,
it is loud and all consuming,
it resonates deep within every beating heart.
And immediately it all begins to melt,
the clock behind your head slides off the wall
and with a splat it lands like a puddle on the floor.
It said 1:33 before, now I don't know.
I don't know anything anyway.

Two

The glass shattered on the sidewalk,

The contents exploding forth in a frothy protest.

And then it all settles.

The loud crack rests on your ears,

And the liquid begins to calm.

You felt this sudden urge,

At the mere sight of me,

To throw the most expensive thing you own

On the ground.

Maybe you didn’t do it in reality,

But I saw this image of you

Heaving the bottle over your head,

Pulsing your body with all your might,

Pushing all the rage you feel directly into the shattered pieces.

And your heart was racing at the moment,

When glass touched the concrete and broke.

It wasn’t the glass’s fault.

It was your own. 

Stay at Home Dad

You called me eight times today.

I’m not picking up because I am “asserting my opinion”

Can’t you see that I don’t want to talk to someone who

Is a walking double standard?

I’m in a dilemma,

What I am holds me back.

Tell us all that it doesn’t matter anymore,

But we are smarter than that.

Things have not changed.

I will still get paid less than you,

I still cannot lift heavy machinery,

I still cannot shoot a gun.

I still cannot fight for a country I love.

You have asked many times what I mean by double standard,

And I have asserted many times,

This idea that you want me to speak my mind,

And yet,

You feed me a script is somewhat contradictory.

Are you too prideful to admit your fear of me?

Are you too afraid to let go?

Mass Produced Jesus

Do this in remembrance if me,

Cupped in your hand,

A small pressed disc,

The flavor of cardboard,

The look of plastic,

It melts away into your blood,

A symbolic saving grace.

Buy this for $9.99 at the local

Christian super-market,

Pre-blessed and holy.

The drier the wine the more it was prayed over,

The colder the water, the holier it is.

Bottle it up, ship it out, save them souls.

I have always wanted to buy clergy clothing,

Just to be able to wear it wherever I want.

Picture that,

Walking down the street,

With those silly hats and cloaks draped over me.

Just going to school like normal.

I can get those too, on soulsaver.com

For $50 each. 

Twenty Four

Chains I carry.

Limits you defined.

Every day I lift them for you.

I cannot forget.

This system you made.

From when my eyes break open.

‘Til when they slam shut.

I am a slave to you.

Dear God,

Only you could know.

The voice leaks into my room every night,

When everyone else is asleep, it comes.

It is sticky and dirty,

Covers my body in a thick cocoon.

I cannot move, part of me doesn’t want to.

Its slimy hands spread my legs

And that voice, that voice, consumes my mind.

The words fall like syrup on me,

Sweet nothings like:

you are a failure

you accomplish nothing

you deserve the worst

you are a hypocrite.

A charmer with its words indeed. 

And when I finally close my eyes,

I feel the water begin to cleanse me.  

Amen.

All I whimper when it leaves

Having used me to its fill.

Amen. 

Shouldn't

I shouldn’t care but I do. I shouldn’t, but I do. I do.

Can’t help but feel ugly when you look past me like a window,

Can’t help but feel tired when you drain me,

Can’t help but feel like a failure when I can’t get away from you,

Can’t help but feel cheated at the very thought of you.

I shouldn’t say I regret meeting you, but I think I do.

I shouldn’t say I hate you, but I’m beginning to think I do.

How scary is that…

I can't wait

Today I put a secret in a box. I put two actually. There they sit in the darkness, waiting to turn into something beautiful. Surprise, they were about you. I can’t wait until I’m not in love with you. I can’t wait until I no longer fear you. I can’t wait until…

And as my life floats by me, spending days and hours waiting for you, a feeling of searing regret consumes me. I wasted so much time on you. YOU.  It’s pathetic really. How much I have given up for you, how much I obsess over you, how much I idolize you.

I can’t wait for the day I no longer need you.

I am the size of an ant. I can be squashed beneath your shoe, and just like that, I’m forgotten.

I wished

Now I’m running away from you. Funny how things change so quickly.

I’m sorry I wished this upon you. I would lay awake at night; my heart pounding, my fists clenched so tight they hurt, my mind racing. I would lay there for hours praying that something would go wrong. I prayed for this exactly. I held my breath. I passed out. I went into a coma. I had to crawl out of the deepest parts of me in order to even open my eyes again. Now that I am awake, I am sorry.

I always say how I wish I was focusing on more beautiful things. I really do wish this. I do.

Now I look behind me and see the mess you made; the vortex that is spinning out of control and sucking in others against their every will. I see this and a cruel glare of guilt blinds me. This is my fault I whisper. But when I look at the cliff I’ve had to climb to get away from you, I realize this was not my fault. You did this to yourself. Thank God I am not down there.

What happens now? You live your life. And I choose to live mine. I hope that we can still be friends, that have been my hope since the day we first said hello. But I will be damned before I let you hurt me again. I’ve learned my lesson. You won’t pull me down ever again.

So many words unheard

I’ve been fighting to find something to say. I open my mouth and the words can’t even squeak out. I feel robbed. Robbed of something to say. Even in my writing there is nothing to offer you. I’ve been drawing a blank, tapping my pencil on the blank page. It’s been months now. Nothing can describe in the way I want it to. Whatever I write, it’s not right. Nothing is good enough for it; if I can ever figure out what it is.

And believe me; I have much to say.

And I can’t even focus on anything beautiful now. I spend more time in thought than I do anything. Have you seen the list of things I need to read? It goes on for centuries. There’s no end in sight. And I am the only one to blame.

I went away from you in hopes that I would find something beautiful within myself to thrive. But now I am even running away from that because you followed me there. I cannot get away from you. I want to, I’m desperate to, but I cannot right now.

So now I’ll just sip my tea; slightly cold and sweetened way too much. I’ll just stare at the screen before me with a smug sense of self importance. I’ll let the music drift softly onto deaf ears. And I’ll leave the pages blank. 

Empty Seat next to me

I can’t help myself while picturing you sitting right beside me.

You would take my hand and the warmth would make me feel whole again.

I would take you to all the places I love.

Everywhere. Everyone. Everything.

You and I would go dancing.

You and I would drive.

You and I would cheer for our team.

You and I would kiss.

It’s almost like you materialize right next to me.

I’m so glad, I’ve wanted you there all along.

The seat is so cold,

When I shake awake and see.

See that it is not you beside me,

It is only an empty chair. 

There will come a time

There will come a time when you feel lost and thirsty from the cold bitter wind. It ceaselessly blows on your face, stripping you of all you have ever had. You will forget where you came from. You will forget where you belong. And you will forget who you are.

But that is only a moment.

And soon after, when you think all is lost, there will come another moment. This is a moment where water is poured out over you. And finally all the chaos, all the heartache, all the confusion wash away. There will come a time where you see it all come together. And all the places you’ve gone come before you, it makes sense. It finally makes sense. And in this moment, undeniable love wells up around you. It consumes you, devours you. It is love you have forgotten. It is love that you thought you lost. It is love that you have needed.

There will come a time when we will all meet again.

Embrace and love each other deeper than we have ever known. Every so often I get a glimpse of this type of heaven and it restores everything I hold toward humanity. We will love each other despite the hurt, despite the slander, despite the distance, despite the hate. Love triumphs over everything. It really does.

When?

It all comes together like a sloppy wet kiss. Smile brightly beautiful one for you know where to send your heart.

They say that it is only after you stop looking that you find what you were looking for.

It takes putting one step in front of the other to move forward. No other way around it. It takes rising when all others thought you would fall. Is this too idealistic? When will this be truth?

When?

Will not and Will

I will not take offense. I will not overthink or hurt. I will not assume. I will not judge or slander. I will not hold expectations. I will not forget. I will not regret.

I will laugh. I will smile. I will go in my own direction. I will be loved. I will see beautiful things. I will take action. I will be happy (so happy). I will do amazing things. I will love.

Every day. Every single day

The more I do this, the more I realize I don’t want it to go this way. There is this “ah-ha” moment when I realize that if I keep going along I will be SETTLING.

And I’m not saying that I am looking for perfection, god no. But I don’t want something so far off that I can’t even breathe. You arrogant jerk, no, you cannot have everything in your life.

One after another, my apathy is growing. Did I do this to myself? What have I done?

Nameless One, you have done this to me.

They say that once you stop looking love finds you. How much do I believe that?

Zero

I can’t hold on to these anymore,
I clutch them so tightly in my hand
White knuckles.
I still don’t know.
I don’t know at all.

But some asshole piece of me still hopes.
As I crush what I want in my hand,
It spins out of control.
Expectations.

She.

What is She?
Long, red hair (like fire).
Wavy and silky, just how you like it.
Quirky but smart.
Lively but not too strange.
Different,
Yet,
Conforming all the same.
She can wear the beautiful clothes.
She can dance, though you never would.
Smooth (beautiful) perfect skin.
Eyes that light up.
Teeth and a mouth you wouldn’t dare touch,
But somehow they haunt you.
Caring.
Wants a family, 2 kids and a dog.
White picket fence, everything.
She is a teacher-art.
Somewhere in her she wants you.
Don’t forget that she always likes to have fun.
Don’t forget that she can be your everything.
Best friend.
Idealized and eternal.
Your idea of perfection.
But when you come down to it,
She’s mediocre.

She’s just prettier than me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41R1jN26b4I&feature=related

Want

I want so much to inspire someone
To love someone.

Buddha streaming across your face,
Do you have any idea what you have changed?

Compiled one on top of another,
We create.

I do not want it to be so much “Want”
But it seems that is all I do nowadays.

Nothing I see is my own,
Nothing I make is my own.

What is Me?
What is You?

What is the difference?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgYnRh8ACGQ

Epiphany

“Don’t allow anybody to make you feel that you’re nobody. Always feel that you count. Always feel that you have worth, and always feel that your life has ultimate significance.” –Martin Luther King Jr.

Later in that same speech:
“You have a responsibility to seek to make your nation a better nation in which to live. You have a responsibility to seek to make life better for everybody. And so you must be involved in the struggle for freedom and justice.”

I’ve given up holding expectations.
To you or anyone else,
Over myself.
Perfection is not love.

I remember the taste of your love
It has remained with me for so long
I wish I had more, but it is all gone.
I can be sad over this empty pot,
Or I can make more

Revelation- I am my own person.
With my own loves.
With my own faults.
With my own significances.

Forget falling in love with you,
I have my own person to love now.
There hasn’t been love there for a very long time

Scared

We drove till we felt for certain our problems were behind us
There was a world created that night
Between only you and I.
I know now, because I didn’t before,
This was fate we tasted

Later,
When time overwhelms our bodies,
Our friendship,
I will look back to that night.

I beg you to stay,
But staying creates commitment
And commitment is
Lightening
Fear.

The city lights consume your blank face,
Hues of yellow and red make you unearthly.
You’re not mine.

I have the Right

Before I drifted off to sleep you came swimming to my mind. You do that a lot. But instead of inviting you into my thoughts, letting you dwell within me for another agonizing night, I told you no. The shock on your face broke every place in my heart. I didn’t want to tell you no. But don’t you see, I had too. Then you drifted away from me and fell into another’s arms. This was the hardest to see. I turned away, completely shattered, but not dying.

This is where I realized that I have the right. I possess within me every right to control you just as much as you control me. I hope that you can see with crystal clarity that a boundary line has been drawn the second you took her hand. I can no longer let you in. You said no first and therefore, I can deny you too.

I will do this with the utmost love and respect for you. I will always care for you, there is no denying that. One cannot fall out of love. I will be gentle. But know from this point forward it is always going to be completely different.

O Soul

Why are you so downcast o my soul?

What ails you, beautiful thing?

Why do you churn within me?

Silence now, o soul.

I do not understand.

Why are you so broken o my soul?

What has happened, lovely presence?

Why do you shatter now?

Do not hurt any longer, o soul.

Your suffering is not permanent.

Why are you searching o my soul?

What do you ache for, sweet soul?

Why do you long?

Stop looking, o soul.

It will find you.