Redefining

I've got a bold new idea
We'll make love a reality
Instead of something used to
Break the hearts of the lonely

Why don't we redefine love?
How 'bout we redefine it true?
Where people don't hurt people
Because they've nothing better to do.

How 'bout we redefine it
So where it actually means true love
As God really meant it to be
A heavenly gift from above

Anti-Love

I've decided something these past few months. That romantic, dreamy love doesn't exist. How can it?

All "love" does is bring you to a crevasse and leave you there to fall alone. It leaves you alone to suffer, and it turns you bitter and cold.

Lord knows I've tried and tried, but I can't keep trying. I don't think I can take another fall, only to be left alone, crying, like I've done so many times before.

You can love your daddy, because you know that he'll always be there for you. You can love God, because He'll never leave you. But how can you love someone one day, when chances are they'll be gone the next? How can you love someone, when chances are they'll grow bored with you and move onto someone else.

That's not love.

I don't see love anywhere. All I see are divorces, fights, yelling and screaming, crying and pain, but I don't see the kind of love people dream about.

I suppose that's why it's called a dream, because it's not real.

If you want to prove me wrong, I lay before you this challenge. Show me a love that will never end that isn't the family sort of love. Show me a love that will never grow bored, never leave, never break your heart, never do anything to hurt you.

Because I'm tired of love. I'm tired of getting hurt and then being told I'm loved, because to me, that doesn't work.

Invisible

When you are invisible
No one knows your pain
No one sees the tears fall
Down your face like rain

When you are invisible
No one else can see
That you are alone
With no one left to cling

For when you are invisible
The pain eats your mind
When you are invisible
You're left alone behind

Bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Down, up, down
Bounce, bounce, bounce
Don't touch the ground

Salvation

I feel the coldness take me in, with its long and frozen hands. I feel the coldness take my soul, and turn the my lifetime's sand.

I call for help, but I'm too far gone. Lord, can no one hear me? I feel like I'm stuck in this timeless box while everyone grows old around me.

But no one hears me, they just go on, while I sit alone and cry. I feel like a useless, pathetic waste as I sit and watch the world go by.

They see one me, I see another, one that is slowly dying. Yet I am helpless to do else but hope that someone sees me lying.

Lord, how do I fix this? How do I fight the cold, the pain? I fear I might be too late to do ought else but hope it rains.

For when it rains, it pours and just maybe I'll find a raft to cling to. And then up, up, up out of the box to where salvation leads to.

Sometimes

Sometimes, when I look at you
I swear I see something in your eyes
Other times, when I glance at you
I swear you pass me by

Sometimes, I feel like
You're a fellow sufferer, a tortured soul
Other times, I feel like
You're crazy and out of control

Sometimes, I think you
See past the mask to the very depths of me
Other times, I think you
Don't have a clue what it's like to be me

And sometimes, when I look at you
I swear there is something more
But I feel like every time I get close to you
You just slam the huge oak door.

Memories

Memories.

They do funny things to you.

They like to pop out of no where and torture you with coulda-beens and woulda-beens and sometimes, they pop out of no where and you can't even remember why you remember them.

Sometimes, Memories are useful, like when you remember why you shouldn't date this guy, because he's an egotistical jerk and he was never nice to you, or when you remember why you shouldn't scream bloody murder while riding bareback on a horse because you can't figure out how to make her stop galloping through trees that like to smack you around with their branches. But most of the time, Memories are nothing but a nuisance.

I think personally Memories are in line with the dryer monster who eats my socks and the gremlins who hide things like my wallet, house keys and notebooks full of these kind of writings. I think Memories just like to mess with your head because they have nothing better to do and they find it amusing.

Today, when we lost power briefly, I was attacked by Memories. I guess Memories don't like either when the ceiling fans don't work and it starts getting really hot really fast.

Memories all but had me hog-tied with an apple in my mouth. Stupid Memories.

I was sitting there, munching on dry cereal because we couldn't risk opening the fridge. (Not that I can really have milk, mind you. I'm lactose intolerant and pure milk just doesn't go.) Memories attacked me with a memory right while I was eating my cereal and singing Spongebob songs. I remembered back when I was little and Mom was at work all of the time. Daddy would sometimes get up with us before school, and we'd sit there and eat cereal--well, I would--and sometimes he'd sing the Whooping Bird song while my siblings goofed off and pushed each other around. And then I remembered the morning after the night we found out about Mom's accident. The morning our lives changed for the worse. We sat there, playing with our food. And no one sang or goofed off. Daddy was at the hospital with Mom and we were all convinced she was going to die.

And then I wondered what I could have done differently.

I wonder that about everything.

If I had done this or that, would my life have been better? Would things have changed at all, or is the outcome the same, no matter what I would have done? Is life just some path you take, and no matter how many times you try to change it, your destination is inevitable?

I'm not sure I like the idea at all.

And then I thought about the person I used to be. Man, I hate her. I hope she stays in the stupid little box I stuck her in and never comes out. She never cared about anyone else, and she was punished a lot for it. The mental scars from that time still ache, and I don't think I'll ever completely recover. I wonder if you can ever recover from your past, or if it perpetually haunts you, joining in Memories' song and dance and torturing your mind, your soul, your heart, until you just snap.

If that's the case, how do so many people survive? If I had to endure another eight years of this, I think the person I am now would effectively be destroyed. I don't think I could handle it.

I used to think of myself as this strong, unbreakable person, but I lost that illusion years ago. No one is strong or unbreakable. Some may learn how to protect themselves better than others, but we all have our kryptonite, and we all inevitably fail.

And then we grow hurt and try to seal ourselves off from the world, and we come out looking like horrible, selfish jerks, but you don't care because it keeps you safe. Or it will as long as someone isn't determined to mash through your defenses. And you give up trying, despite how happy trying used to make you.

And Memories never let you forget any of this. They never let you forget your past, your decisions, or why you've become who you've become.

C'est La Vie, mi amigos. (Hmm...is that Spench or Franish? lol.)