Poison

I posted about this song several years ago (see here, see here), but I just realized I never posted the lyrics when I finished the song.

verse 1

well, they told me admitting it is half the battle

so imma step up on my soapbox and give you all a piece of my mind

tell you my name and spin you a tale

of how i’m probably an addict, and i think that i’m dying from it.

i have these dreams, or maybe they’re nightmares

about the day that we crossed paths and how

i haven’t been the same since

and now staying and leaving, they both seem like suicide

chorus (2x):

it seems i can’t shake you

deep down i know i need to

even still, i don’t care

i guess i’ll die by your poison

verse 2

well, now i’m in my bed but hardly sleeping

see i know i shouldn’t miss you but it’s all i really want to do

i didn’t know i had fallen so far

is this pleasure or pain, cause i can’t seem to distinguish the two

my brain's a fog and my hands won’t stop shaking

i guess this is my version of withdrawal

but i don’t think that i can sober up

at the rate that i’m going, I'll be gone tomorrow

(chorus)

(don't have a title for this right now)

you recover.

you breathe, stretch.
you somehow stand up.
you find the muscles for a smile again.
you laugh a little too loudly and hug a little too long.
you keep breathing.
you have some tea.
you do a few chores.
you downward dog.
you dance a little.
you realize the pain wasn’t enough to kill you so
you keep going.
you know it won’t be the last time but
you let the thought pass.
you look forward to tomorrow.

you recover.

vertical aesthetic

i just sent an email
to a friend
in the form of a poem--

stanzas,

line
breaks,
the whole 9
minus rhymes
(oh wait)

not sure why

faith encounters

today in church, i was feeling detached.  we kept talking about experiencing God, asking ourselves when we last felt the presence of God…and i just felt like i was there but not there.  like i’ve been going through motions.  i kept trying to let that feeling go, to focus, but it wouldn’t leave.

until the last few minutes of service.

i loved doing jigsaw puzzles when i was little—if i had time, i’d still do them on occasion.   i used to work on them over the span of days; i would sit at the table in our family room upstairs and put together 100, 500, 1000+ piece puzzles, losing track of time, sometimes putting them together systematically—starting at the edges of the picture and working my way in—and sometimes fitting things together with no real rhyme or reason.

back when i was applying to colleges, my pastor preached a sermon entitled “Let God Put the Pieces Together.”  he gave everyone a puzzle pieces as a reminder of his point.  i made a necklace out of it and wore it to multiple pre-frosh weekends.  it was a tangible indicator of who was in control as i tried to figure out where i’d be attending school after graduation.  i think i still have it somewhere.

at the end of church today, as i was praying that i would let go and let God work out these feelings of detachment, He gave me a brief glimpse of Him, sitting at a table, fitting jigsaw pieces together…slowly, carefully.  He showed me that He is fitting me together, even when i don’t feel Him doing so, even if it seems to take Him days or weeks to finish it.  i can’t put myself together; only He can do that.  i want to rest in that image, because it’s been with me for a while, whether i was aware of it or not.

common knowledge

"Everyone knows,"
we say,
"that putting
Band-aids on bullet
wounds will never
stop the bleeding."

and yet
we let those
crimson rivers
flow

and
we wrap
our secrets in
gauze

and
we walk like
we've never been
damaged