I’ve built a wooden heart inside this iron ship, to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts. Don’t let these waves wash away your hopes this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors

WOODEN HEART (SEA OF MIST CALLED SKAIDAN)

We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath… We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I’ve been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it’s not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will…
so I’ve built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts…
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison… that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward…always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we’ll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

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“Vi veri veniversum vivus vici”

The truth has been one of the most empowering realizations of my 30 years on this earth. It is not always pleasant but worth it beyond words. I’m coming to find most people ask for the truth but rarely ever want it.

I decided to truly be honest with everyone I encounter. It is strange sometimes, the look I get in return. I’m never rude, frank but not rude. I get confused by people’s rebuttal to the truth, even things I’ve seen with my own eyes or heard with my own ears. I had never really noticed this till I quit playing the pretend game myself.

Sometimes I feel as if the more I dig into myself, life, human behavior the further I become from the rest of the world.

Love,

M

“It wouldn’t be so bright if there wasn’t a shadow every once in a while.”

Image

It’s strange how we progress and grow as people but forget our mistakes are part of us. I used to weigh myself down so heavenly with them, no matter how much they were no longer who I am. I realize now that the darkest times in my life are some of the most valuable times in my life. They have molded me into the person I am today.

I’ve been divorced for five years and through dealing with past emotions, the effects of a 9 year extremely abusive marriage, grieving the loss of the life I thought I would have I self medicated with alcohol. It not only drove me into the darkest depression I’ve ever experience, it hurt the people around me that I love. I did and said things I logically can not understand let alone explain the “why” to someone. I make no excuses for my actions, there are none.

Moving forward and out of that darkness has been the most amazing blessing, gained through the knowledge from the pain I endured. As amazing as that is for me it has left wounds on the people I had hurt during that time. No “I’m sorry” can undo the pain that I had caused, regardless of the depth of my apology.

Days pass and I continue to grow/learn through everyday. No matter how far away I am from the darkness I am treated as if there is a shadow covering me. I can’t out shine the mistakes I had made inside their view of me. When does being compassionate to the fact that I caused this pain cross over to being punished? I’m human, I fall short but we all do or have. When do the people holding me in the shadow if mistakes I can’t undo have to be removed? I know it takes time to heal and I am compassionate to that fact.

I guess it is hard because in my life I view the dark times as the reason for my depth as a person. Not reasons to beat myself up for them.

Love,

Dear Yesterday, Goodbye

Becoming Yourself

“My wish for every one of you is that you find a way to let go of all the armor and costumes that seem to cover who we really are.” Me

I truly mean that with every ounce of my being. Life is this beautiful mess of a masterpiece yet most of us never pick up the brush to their own life. I always found it so troubling and sad when you speak to the elderly or someone with a terminal illness. They all seem to be fighting past regrets of wish I would have, I wish I wouldn’t have done, I wish I could (fill in the blank).

This site is my reach out to you. I’ll be posting my own personal stories of my yesterdays. I hope you find the comfort to reach out if you are ever going through something and would like my perspective or just someone you know will always be there in a completely nonjudgmental way please do.

Love,

Dear Yesterday, Goodbye

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