and so

what do I run from, avoid like the holy dickens
how can I see all lights green and stop in the middle of the street
between me and heaven, we've conspired to shut my mouth, waiting
for me to stop turning away, instead looking steadfastly on
when will I break through, when will I run with it

comment

I read this post by wroteitforme and found I had a lot to say in return. Apparently my comment was too long to fit. So, I'm putting it here.

annihilated by the light

nothing to fear

Cannot Hold Back the Ocean

Love itself is immortal. It consumes us, tumbling us over and over again. Polishing our sharp edges with time and patience.
It refines us, defines us. Molds us in its image until we ourselves become pure, love.

Reasons of a Mind

I stopped myself from writing, creating with paper, thousands of times. I felt foolish, an imposter wasting my words' time with useless outpouring of my interpretations.
Words, which I condemned with a million other words; words whose purpose, whose meaning I wanted to control; words that filled me, carried me so far along and brought me to these heights that words couldn't reach.

I follow, sometimes feeling blinded. I feel distracted from my intentions by the immediate, pressing ideas that collide, fighting to be heard in a word.

bluffs

How far will you dare to go?
Will you run?

The Middle Ground

There is something between us
Something that holds us, that keeps us
There is a thing that binds
And lets us find
Us

There is something between us
Something that hides us, that blinds us
There is a thing that craves
And demands space and privacy
Building walls out of the unknown

The Rose-colored Glasses

there are billions of steps between me and you,

you know, there are worlds crossing in between us

you pretend not to look at the measures I take

(I pretend not to look at my feet, don't look down)

you stand, looking straight forward

do you only see your own destination or

or is life sticking out like a sore thumb

jostling you as you wait for the bus

I contain a perfect universe.

There are no flaws but the making of my own skin.

I am empty

I get fulfilled. I am nothing.

I find everything.

I am filthy. Define redemption.

I am all. And there is nothing.

I play tricks. My mind lays down its logic.

It gives me all, and leaves me nothing.