I don't know how to be brave enough To watch the end of lives someday I don't think I want to see a war And learn to accept To grasp for something I never could That vanishes That things are ok When they're not I look around at all the damage That I've caused I feel like I've read and learned it all for nothing And sometimes I wonder If I lead a life that anyone deserves. I run up debts like I am building my own path to heaven I write songs for a future time When all the evil in my soul's Been conquered or has died off Or existed in a time before That first mistake I went astray Or all the places I can make Into a heaven without wrong Or indecision I don't want to see my friends Or family face judgement On account of me I pile my debts as high as heaven I hope you understand my feelings Written from a future song A bower or a lonesome landscape Under stars That lead like beacons To a frozen time when people Make mistakes and memory fades into a certain constellation I can't walk these sacred paths Enough times to escape my fate. Even things like failure live Forever remembered in the stars If they are faded galaxies Andromeda and Hercules Perseus and Perseids Like faded denim I'm worn in Your heavy weight I cannot see Your magic isn't what it was Faded jeans your galaxies Are pulling ever away from me And memories I cast to thee I don't need more reminding Than looking into darkened eyes To remember just what life is I miss times I mostly haven't seen Except on one or two dark nights Way out on hilltops Lonely scenes Back in time Before cities And traffic And the safety in the light Another kind of comfort And another kind of fear I faced The deepest dark I feel That's cast in such contrast to a blazing Fibrous net of stars Driving home tonight Under Pythagoras' stars What's left of a sky Like faded denim I drive home and wish that I could be More than I am And less of some things too I know it's just the chair of Cassiopea And faded though she is I can still see it clearly But now at odds It's just a right angle And doesn't seem so real to me anymore Than it might have been in another time Faded like denim I wouldn't call it heaven when the stories there are written different Sky at night The marks are faded But the patterns still remain And some say that they do have power I think they gather pain and sorrow Pulling with their spinning weight These constellations spin away And yet they are frozen And it is me Who spins beneath them Eyes alight with wonder And knowing something When I let myself adjust to that darkness I have felt as though I could fall into an endless blackness Like I could spill right off the edge of the world And walk among the stars like cold daisies in a frozen meadow. So I borrow from a future song To write of times when things are perfect Perfect absent me Because I'm not perfect But still a time I have been a part of? Can I leave the world a better place Knowing someday I'll have gone away? Can I walk through a world that will not change That is imperviously good despite my mistakes? That's the kind of world I pray for It's of that place I dream When I write my songs And loud as I want to Those stars shine at me and tell me There are things so cold and distant You cannot change You cannot touch That light that reaches you Came from another distant time And how can it alter for me There is a nature so steady And unending To confront it To try to look into its depths To feel that to look any harder is to begin to peel away from the very surface of the Earth To flake away like time off a statue Is to know how to calmly face That which lives among us and Breathes in us and gives us thought and bravery and love and courage And any of many other Manners with which we may face That end of the universe To what depth is the limit of the awareness of the human heart? What distance can my spirit travel How far may it And what form? A dust of frozen crystals Voyaging forth in any direction From that final exhalation Beyond Earth's atmosphere Called to space by the virtue of the light of stars The truth we call stories To those I dedicate my soul In that calm light I know fear and acceptance In a way that connects me to a universe before words And eternity? To an unchangeable light That reaches me through darkness When it's my own done damage Or damage seen Or a loss I cannot grasp A truth I can't take back It would be like changing light And more I try to walk a line And pray and study what I have And do no harm as I walk my path To trod on no crystals To cherish those left In that faded denim sky Which on a clear night Still sparkles and calls to me With a dark and vacuous comfort That empties me to my soul's depths. ______ 4/3 Meeting people as an adult can be a little scary My life's messed up and what we share are you quite sure? It's so absurd I'd swear you are a therapist... Are you here to help me work my problems out? If we share I'm sorry, 'cause no one else deserves this I'm so messed up I'm so messed up My life was better as it was Please don't look Please don't touch Let's do no more to mess this up We are the same kind of messed up I can't believe life really does this You and I should just shut up And think about the way it was When life was good and nothing stuck We're better off the way it was Are you real? And can this be? Or are you secret therapy? I have been honest with my friends and drifting on I find you Are you real And is our pain? or are you trying to help me gain -- my sanity? Because I've always felt my friends were strong And smart so I could depend on them But if you struggle too, the more I realize That I can't lean too much on others' strength, Especially when I feel I'm sinking.. Are you real and is this me? How can someone who looks so fine Have so much turmoil in their mind? I am fine and this is me and if this is some therapy then boundaries of friendship drawn get closer to my heart trust is one thing, fun is another. truth lives in the way i have to tune out my own deep suspicion and live my life in indecision. as if i were an octopus with arms spread wide my mind a queit pearl and my arms creeping and prying clenching and taking as if they were each their own directionless entity. And I, bouncing along propelled smoothly, a great exposed brain am wordless unapologetic I have no responsibility no inclination to defend myself with speech And if you are therapy if you, in the place of a friend, have some ulterior motivation to help me to fix me its no wonder my heart wonders if you are real! if your stories are ture when the hand to give them to me with the voice you speak with -- that comes from your own past and your own life and authorities and conscience-built self-giving offer of friendship. common stories and common love for another we find and share and reorient and meet and discover and if it feels a little unreal a little like suspicious a little bit too scary. If we hold back and deny the depth of our feelings if we regret the strength of our emotions or the dark twisted nature of our experiences If we feel fuzzy or too complicated, or thorny like we have baggage or like everything is a whole big thing now, if we throw our hands up to the mystery and give it to chance, fate, luck, God... If we take a step back and deny the complexities of our experiences for fear that our mistakes or darke experiences define us, I think that is the quiet internal fear of living that poets talk about And what if we are like galaxies? Not a whole and single entity not black and white with such harsh lines but as we fade and as we spread our light and darkness are mingled As we explore the reaches of our souls as we discover of ourselves two spinning arms a yin and yang a dark and light and something other than a whole \a one an inter-self We are learning to let light in to more than compare to share and bend to allow ourselves to change and see it happen. We overlap and see the same in others and our stories ring with a deep and frightening music of the universe. So if i doubt that it is real If i wonder if you are a therapist sent from somewhere... If I feel like I just have to tune it out and live, but live with the feelings others give to be brave live deeply be unafraid To live life to its lees to find the marrow to unplug, though, to be myself myself true to that past self, that more-whole, that uncomplicated and more-perfect self If we are in a lantern shade spinning and flashing colors cast on walls and round we spin and where we cast that light and if that picture feels like it's our souls cast outside our bodies, if we wonder feel like death or like we are casting out souls into uncertainty or danger, If we hide within ourselves if we draw that line between black and white If we are fearful if we explore that line if falling feels like death, What i meant to say is if we spin about on a colored shade and cast our light in different ways if within us is a light that knows no direction if our soul knows no body but what it clings to and grows off of it like vines on a stone abbey like a parasitic body on a pearl of light Our body and our souls divide. To what limits are the awareness of our soul and where exactly is that light and do we gather it and hold onto it for a time and do we keep it stored inside of us? Is it one soul at all? Or is that fed by light and expelling and re-shelling and its own fed thing entirely Make no mistake our souls I don't think you can control the way it is a part of you and don't think it only comes out your eyes check your backside! Your soul is around you and mingling all the time and to remember not to fear an angel sits on your shoulder and guards you
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AuthorWe are Kieran and Michelle, two 32-year-old William & Mary grads living in Virginia. Archives
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