level
Apparently an owl can eat a kitten. So I've been told. They'll never forgive me. Or I them. This is what comes of watching Breakfast at Tiffany's too many times while sleeping. And never giving the cats names. I am those kitties, lost and forgotten. nameless. Surviving the wilds by my scruff and wit.
There are those who presume to know me. Funny, how words can hold more than just their meaning. Catalyst. Remember, Matteo, when we were lighthearted sprites and you were my ultimate excuse. Not truly significant, mereley a catalyst. And that can't be so bad. It's gotten me as far as this. Such a straggly, twisted path. Woven and patched and pasted. Not knowing the destination, just that I must go forward. Wherever it may lead. And the hardest task...realizing I know nothing and yet holding all the cards. Figure out what that means. Catalyst. Now, I make my own brew. With some help along the way.
And my only true loves three: Mommy, Chris, and Christopher: unconditional. Bound by blood and sorrow. A common thread between us. Lost children wandering on our way. We all mother each other. Even my baby knows to hug me when I cry. But I'll carry all that I can for you, my love. My child, who holds so much promise. The keys to the kingdom in his grasp. Never let go. And we never will. I can certainly never take that road now. My ultimate safety mechanism. Just in case. But surely by now it's common sense. After all my efforts to make a case for the other side.
And then there is this other side. The one of Daddy. I don't know. I'm sorry, but... Well, that "but" negates the first part of the sentence. I will love you if you jump through my obstacle course of morals and standards. The stain of prejudgement on our love. How did we get so far away from ourselves? And there are so many that fit into your category now. When an opinion of how you perceive me collides with the reality of who I am. And I give over to that and believe you rather than me. And what of that? The answer is, the answer is...pizza. Put a blues clues blinder band aid on and we're good to go. You disapprove of me. At times. And that outweighs any of the rest. That "but" in the sentence. The only way to the kingdom of Heaven is through your Son. So you dispel me because of an error of syntax. And I am messier than your little box allows for. There is not an "other" to check on the form. And even when the door is left open the kittie doesn't come to call. Did I devestate you so entirely? There is waiting to be had.
And this is an excuse and I know it. I should be strong enough to withstand your disapproval. And this is also part of the problem. My expectations and not meeting them. My own love, never secured or surrendered. Always slighltly backtstage. For fear of my own power. My fear of the dark, of the shadow I keep. And of the light. And the responsiblity it brings.
And Neatby forcasts the destruction. But I don't listen to him either. Or you. Or anyone. I'm beginning to listen for my own voice. There, under the mome raths and foxgloves. And ultimately I am here by divine grace. Kept and cared for by the Creator who made me. Stardust.
Last Five
treasure - Thursday, Sept. 06, 2006
need - Sunday, May. 22, 2005
where is here - Friday, May. 13, 2005
save me. - Monday, May. 09, 2005
nonsense - Sunday, May. 01, 2005
ALL
There are those who presume to know me. Funny, how words can hold more than just their meaning. Catalyst. Remember, Matteo, when we were lighthearted sprites and you were my ultimate excuse. Not truly significant, mereley a catalyst. And that can't be so bad. It's gotten me as far as this. Such a straggly, twisted path. Woven and patched and pasted. Not knowing the destination, just that I must go forward. Wherever it may lead. And the hardest task...realizing I know nothing and yet holding all the cards. Figure out what that means. Catalyst. Now, I make my own brew. With some help along the way.
And my only true loves three: Mommy, Chris, and Christopher: unconditional. Bound by blood and sorrow. A common thread between us. Lost children wandering on our way. We all mother each other. Even my baby knows to hug me when I cry. But I'll carry all that I can for you, my love. My child, who holds so much promise. The keys to the kingdom in his grasp. Never let go. And we never will. I can certainly never take that road now. My ultimate safety mechanism. Just in case. But surely by now it's common sense. After all my efforts to make a case for the other side.
And then there is this other side. The one of Daddy. I don't know. I'm sorry, but... Well, that "but" negates the first part of the sentence. I will love you if you jump through my obstacle course of morals and standards. The stain of prejudgement on our love. How did we get so far away from ourselves? And there are so many that fit into your category now. When an opinion of how you perceive me collides with the reality of who I am. And I give over to that and believe you rather than me. And what of that? The answer is, the answer is...pizza. Put a blues clues blinder band aid on and we're good to go. You disapprove of me. At times. And that outweighs any of the rest. That "but" in the sentence. The only way to the kingdom of Heaven is through your Son. So you dispel me because of an error of syntax. And I am messier than your little box allows for. There is not an "other" to check on the form. And even when the door is left open the kittie doesn't come to call. Did I devestate you so entirely? There is waiting to be had.
And this is an excuse and I know it. I should be strong enough to withstand your disapproval. And this is also part of the problem. My expectations and not meeting them. My own love, never secured or surrendered. Always slighltly backtstage. For fear of my own power. My fear of the dark, of the shadow I keep. And of the light. And the responsiblity it brings.
And Neatby forcasts the destruction. But I don't listen to him either. Or you. Or anyone. I'm beginning to listen for my own voice. There, under the mome raths and foxgloves. And ultimately I am here by divine grace. Kept and cared for by the Creator who made me. Stardust.
Last Five
treasure - Thursday, Sept. 06, 2006
need - Sunday, May. 22, 2005
where is here - Friday, May. 13, 2005
save me. - Monday, May. 09, 2005
nonsense - Sunday, May. 01, 2005
ALL
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