Groundhog's Verdict?

What is it about a baby's heart beating it's quick little rythemn against my chest that makes me ache?
Or the sight of a couple, old or young, holding love and each other's hands that make my own fingers so chilly?
A mother-daughter sitting side by side can make the hairline fractures of my scars shift and bleed.
A daddy cherishing his little baby girl makes me want to run until I can't breath and then run a mile farther. 
Home. Family. Parents.
Everything I've missed out on for the last six years.
Sometimes it's easy to keep the cracks filled.
 I'm not alone, and I never have been...
But my arms are empty.
There's no safe haven chest to rest my head on.
No one to sleep near me to chase the nightmares away.
No one to just Care.
This isn't a never, or a forever.
Dear God, I pray not.
It's just a season.
It's a February of my life.
I just hope it isn't long.
Cause it's cold and bare and browny gray.
There's a promise of spring, Right ?
Every winter has an end...
has the groundhog seen his shaddow?
does he know how many more weeks, months, or years it will be?
If you see him let me know, okay?

Shawna's Melody

Last night we were sitting around in the sanctuary after dinner waiting for the host home meeting and Shawna was on the piano playing around. I just let it soak into me for a while, and then this came out. Enjoy!

2-17-12

Notes...
Red like Silver rain.
Flowing,
Sparkling,
Laughing,
Grabbing the hearer and pulling me
playfully
into the dance.
The heart of the song
beating in my blood.
the restless waves
crashing against each other
and me.
rising,
sinking,
loving and losing
each other
over and over
as they move
and
fade.
A line of melody
sparking memories
of love and loss and grace.
changing key and tone
flawlessly movement
of emotion.
Time unnoticed
lost in the flow.
fingers catching the light
and casting it into song. 

My Only Forever

Why is it easier to speak
then to keep silent?
Why does it hurt less
to let the scars bleed their own stories
then to cover and hide?
Music to soothe
Music to break,
speaking from my soul
of the shattered beauty.
Broken
but
Whole.
I'd rather hold a hand
scarred like mine,
then one that's holding the blade.
To love a body of many
then long for the love of one.
To let myself go...
falling faster and farther
into love
and redemption.
Love that will never
rip my soul apart,
but patch the pieces together
into the finest work of art
for the gallery walks of eternity.
My Father and Healer,
Lover and Keeper.
Life Crucified for Mine.
The only kind of forever I need. 

Wrecking Ball

This was actually an email to my best friend a few nights ago, sent at 3 am when I couldn't sleep. I don't know how much it means, but it's a nice story. A little peek into me.


February 3, 2012

I think Everything is haunting me tonight. all twisted together into this ball of rejection and loss and pain that still hangs over my head. threatening to fall any second and crush me.

I was serious when I asked when my life got so screwed up. what was my first mistake that started this snowball of mistakes and screw ups. This night six years ago I was awake too... only I had sneaked into my parents room so I could see the brand new baby sister that they had brought home that evening one more time. just to make sure she was as beautiful and real as she had been before.

That girl, back then, never thought she'd be here... with a list like mine of regrets. Of hurts and people that she had hurt and had to go back to and rehash the past with... She wouldn't think about a kiss and not even remember which guy it was with. She would never have had to tell the doctor taking care of her that no, she hadn't had surgery, the scars on her stomach were self inflicted... "rough past" said simply in response to the eyebrows raised.

That girl wasn't crawling into bed with her Mom because she knew she would only have that chance for a matter of 48 more hours.

That girl didn't know what it would be like to only have a photograph left of the face that every day made up her world. She didn't know what it would be like to wander those rooms, stand by that bed, live and exist there, empty as it all was. She didn't know what it would be like to walk out for the last time last summer knowing it would never be the same.

She Never knew what it was like to be lonely. to be 870 miles away today and 1,398 miles tomorrow from the person who knows her best and always.

Yeah. It's February. and this is the month that Ball hangs just inches from my heart. sometimes farther, sometimes closer...tonight, a breath away.

I talked to __________ tonight and he asked me how i was doing. I told him it was February and He told me it was all in my head. that I was letting it get to me. "if you want to hurt, you'll hurt. If you want to let it go, You'll let it go. I've seen you do it before."

Is that what I'm doing? am I letting this get to me? Am I holding the ball above my own head? Could I really just let it go like that, or would I be releasing the wrecking ball to do it's work?

That's what is bugging me tonight and I didn't know it til I started writing. I knew this would help.
That 12 year old girl... she's still here. but that's why she created me. to protect her from that ball. when it started forming she knew the ending if something didn't change. I think it's actually her that is in danger. the threat is over her head. Not mine. I'm strong enough, it's just the past, it can't get me now. I've run too far, too long, and too hard. I'm out of it's reach. but she's still small, scared, tired, and inside of me somewhere. she's not knocking to get out... she screaming at me to keep it all away. to keep her alive.

What if I don't? Or can't. what if I'm not strong enough for both of us, and she's not going to make it?

 Don't worry, This probably won't make sense to me in the morning either...