Concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered to him, we ask you, brothers, not to become easily unsettled or alarmed by some prophecy, report or letter supposed to have come from us, saying that the day of the Lord has already come. Don’t let anyone deceive you in any way, for [that day will not come] until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessnessis revealed, the man doomed to destruction.
I am glad you do not think me rude.
And that I have somehow inspired you.
I am sorry you teared.
Or if I brought forth bitter memories.
Believe me when I say
It was not my intent.
You think me wise?
I think I'm young.
I still have years to learn what's
Right or wrong.
Yes, he is my gem.
My light in the world.
The one I know will do me no harm.
We do not judge one another
He helps tend my scars.
And he inspires me so.
Gives me wisdom and hope.
I know he will not fail me
Nor I him.
He has helped to open my eyes.
And I have shown him
He can still love.
Yes I thank God for my gem.
For my best friend.
He was my light
When I was lost in the dark.
inspiration, i can find in the smallest of things.
the tilt of a hat, the glint of some bling.
my own two sense dwindles, as i find my own hair
knotted and burnt, how did you find me back there?
tears are seemed painful, but my tears bring me joy
no matter how much sadness i have to endue
ill laugh till i cry, and cry till i bleed
i need help discerning between my want, and my need.
don’t let anyone look down on you because your age
blessed, and wise, like a young ruler sage.
the more you know, the more you know, you don’t know
over sushi, and cigarettes your learning your trade
over sewing, and typing, your firing the maid.
you can do it yourself, you don’t need any other
i call that learned, and wise, so don’t you dare hide.
a gem, a sparkle.
i have a only a few of those
but they make me worth being
without them, i would have fallen of f the edge of this cruel world.
After all i was built to spill, to tell you my name, and my game, and why i do what i do. Im not done complaining, but everything i have said, and will say has been nothing but complaining. I seek beauty, but find something else. Perhaps its disguised, in the costume i bought it, because Im hiding myself, from my own inner peace. Cold is a theory, a rancid disease. Today i fought hunger, but gave in my soul, because I cant stand the pain, all i need is gain. Break my toes, and fingers and bring me something worthwhile for use. Use of abuse, to scare me away, from all things ive done to my brothers. I lied to them. I cut off their arms. For my own satisfaction, i did them all wrong. Even though i am forgiven, i slice my own eyes, so that i may not see past what you thought you did seize. Just talk me down, walk me down. Im not going easy, its going to be hard work. NO ONE SAID IT WAS GOING TO BE EASY.
You see now I feel terribly rude.
I have been looking forward to writing back
But to keep you waiting till I find the time
Seems rather sad.
You'll have to forgive me,
I'm not always on the screen.
In fact I may be leaving shortly.
I do not speak as I write,
But surely I think as I write.
I have to translate and reword
So that people don't look at me and wonder
"What goes through her head?"
The words mean much,
You see the first gives me hope.
I am rather weak and at times a wreck.
This last semester was the worst I've had in a long while.
I broke up with my love and realized I had no friends where I lived.
School beat me into the ground.
My family didn't have a clue.
I had only one. One who understood.
One who would help.
I would tell myself
"This too shall pass."
To get me through the night
Get past the panic, and anxiety attacks.
And when the attacks came my heart
Would race and my lungs collapse.
My body would shake
As tears streamed from my eyes.
I would be screaming inside but no one would hear.
And the only one who knew, the only one who helped
Would tell me "Just breathe. Breathe."
He is my best friend you see.
He helped when no one else could.
rude, you were not.
to keep me waiting at bay
you must have captured me quick
thank you for it.
something good in the day.
finals and papers, weighing me down,
your poems, just in this one day have become
many times i do not realize how powerful somethings i say
are, not until i write them down.
always asked, “write a slam poem for us”
because i speak to your old, or because you crave the new and modem?
i often wonder.
to hear your story brings me tears
because it sounds like myself
two intersecting street signs couldn’t tell a better story
I am quite flattered.
But beauty only runs skin deep.
Curiosity also runs through my veins.
It will be the death of me someday.
You waited all day?
Now I am very much flattered.
That someone would wait to hear
From little ol' me.
My brother does well. Now.
He threw tantrums and fits.
That is until the drugs wore off.
He took a short nap
Ate some lunch.
And now he is perfectly happy.
We all are.
I'm glad to have earned your respect.
Perhaps you think the ink is overrated but I long for it so.
"This too shall pass."
They may not mean much to you
But mean the world to me.
is there light in the black?
i see beauty within
you tell me skin deep
i say thats bullshit
if your words wernt so profound
verb, after noun
i might say you were right
might think you less than a kite
but what i read here.;
well, beauty runs deep.
I waited all day.
call be obsessive.
perhaps this is eating me alive
eating me whole
eating me back to health
or something better.
no one knows i can write like this
because i cant speak like this
but you can write like this
so to you i can speak like this.
this to shall pass.
explain this to me
id also like to hear the context of
if they mean so much now
tell me how come
pardon my barrage
i feel like a machine gun
of questions and answers
on reject and recline
but if you ask me anything
a straight truth wont be denied
light in the black?
i cant see it, but sense it
its a sound, not a show
im basically blind
ray ban vision wont cut it
but now as i look at the sky, and think of what we’ve said
Why so curious as to who I am?
Why am I so curious as to who you are?
I don't quite know.
Is it the words that bring be back
The words that call my name?
I think it's that you and I shared the words I long for more.
You are popular you say,
but not hip.
I am neither or.
Some call me hipster but I don't always see.
They call me artsy, young, and naive.
Freak, rebel, but I'm simply just me.
I don't need or long for a label.
Nor a crowd to fit in.
I just need the few that know me.
I bare no ink, yet
But I've got my marks.
I think they're a shame
You know others can't see.
They are so faded but they scream to me.
I play games and read books.
It's the best way to escape without ever leaving.
The best way to almost be lazy.
You can't see the sky well your not missing out.
You see it's clouded and grey from where I'm standing
Not even the sun dares to show itself.
Yet here I am watching the window.
Longing to go out and look at the sky
And feel shivers run down my spine
As hairs stand on my neck
So that I might remember to breathe.
curiosity runs deep within me
i want to know people
i want to know things
i want to know you.
because our exchange is beautiful
just as you are.
do you not know that, as i studies today,
class after class, i awaited your reply.
and how is your brother?
hipster and artsy, pop culture dreams
you could tell from my glasses, Im part of a scene
stereotyped, because i ride a certain type of bicycle
and wear vintage clothing.
fuck it all. i am who i am.
and you are who you are.
ink is over rated, but clichés become me
however much i deny the man
new ink tomorrow infact
washington state outline
no worry, ill own up
whats mine is mine.
i have reasons for pain
and reasons for mind so sane.
or insane, and seemingly inline, with all my father wants from me.
i caught a glimpse of the sky
a beautiful sight.
inland northwest fills me with delight
pizza in the oven, made from scratch
Im leaving this place, with my feet still attached
i rained yesterday, and the day before that
dark blue mounts crest the coast of something i imagined in a dream.
your awesome poetry and words strung together in intricate order makes me miss deep conversations over NT journals that I'm not getting done and homework that you've left incomplete - and i fear that we've let this last semester dwindle to nothing but a week and a half, mistakenly and wrongly, because you're going to be two states (one small and one very large) away next year. wessthemess, what shall we do?