PURPLE HALO

PURPLE HALO

It’s a wonder how there are so many things to bring marvel to a man’s
heart. Some are the purest of the good things and their charm exists in their
innate goodness. Some others are seductive in their evil. They lure the eyes
and tempt the heart.

The good things are not so flashy, and may be a little difficult to reach
like a ripe fruit on a tall tree. But like that fruit, reaching them is worth it. The
bad things are blindingly flashy. They command the stares of all and only the
strong of will can tear their gaze away.

The good things are like freshly pressed fruit juice, sweet and healthy and
deeply satisfying. The evil ones, they taste like a fizzy drink loaded with artificial
sweeteners. They are delicious to the taste and are satisfying but only for a
brief period.

There’s a war forever going on in my head. Or is the war actually going
on in my heart? I really don’t know. It’s the age old war of good and evil.
Sometimes I’m good, and other times I’m bad and bordering on evil. I hear it is
nature. Human nature.

There’s a war going on above my head. A war on the ring above my
head, my invisible crown. It’s the same war though. The very war of old, the
war of good and evil. When I’m good the ring is blue. A clear, beautiful blue
that mimics the sky. When I’m bad it changes, turns red. It turns a blazing red
that is fiercer than the licking fingers of a great fire.

Although I wish my ring would remain forever blue, my head and heart
are weak and they succumb to the flashy, delicious fizzy drinks of the evil and
so my halo is in a perpetual state of purple.

Advertisements

TOGETHER

together

If I say the first hi, would you talk to me?
If I take the first step, would you walk with me?
I know you’re way up there, but it would be a fun journey with me.
If I have just one cup, would you share it with me?
If I take the first sip, would you drink with me?
Trust me, this wine could just be the sweetest thing.
If I tell you a good joke, would you laugh for me?
And if it’s really funny, would you laugh with me?
Fun times, every day in my company.
If you have a bad day, would you let me in?
Would you trust me enough to let me comfort thee?
A solid rock for you baby I’ll be.
If I throw the first punch, would you fight with me?
If the other guy is bigger, would you fight for me?
I bet we would make a kick-ass team.
There’s so much I think we could accomplish together.
We could make a mountain move like a feather.
If we give it a try, I think we could be perfect for each other.
So take my hand and let’s start this journey together.

IT’S NOT YOU, IT’S ME.

not you, me

Here, have a drink and a seat. I have something to tell you. I have done a lot of thinking and I think that this cannot be put off any longer. I’m not exactly sure how to say this, but I must. I’m not exactly sure how you’ll take it, but you must.

It’s been three years and I’m sure that if I think hard, I will remember the days when we were happy. If I put some effort, I might even remember a time when I was whole.

It’s been three years of wondering if you’re right. Three years of wondering if I’m really not the sharpest tool in the box. Three years of wondering if I really should get a nose job. Three years of wondering if my resume really is a joke.

It’s been three years of believing you. Three years of believing that nobody else is capable of loving the person that I am. Three years of believing that no one else can see any talent in me. Three years of believing that my dreams are really just nightmares.

It’s been three years of catering to you. Three years of cooking the meals you pick at. Three years of picking up after you. Three years of laundering your heaps and mountains.

It’s been three years of making excuses for you. Three years of telling my dad that you have been too busy with work to go perform the traditional rites. Three years of telling my mum that we’re waiting for God’s time. Three years of telling my friends we just can’t decide on a date yet.

It’s been three years of walking on eggshells. Three years of tip toeing around the issues. Three years of pretending there’s no elephant in the room.

It’s been three years too many. It’s been three years of letting myself slip away while doubt, depression, and fear settled in. It’s been three years of feeling like a stranger in my own skin. It’s been three years of putting you first and always before myself.

It’s been three years of you, but no more. Now I’m going to find myself again, to remember what it feels like to laugh. I’m going to dare to dream again, to breathe again, and to dance again. I guess what I’m saying is I’m leaving. I’m leaving you, for me.