My Bad

My Alibi

I wanted to write

something simple

nothing brilliant

or beautiful

nothing poignant

or profound

just my heart

I wanted to speak

out about my fears

my loves

my past and dreams

never meant to make it a passion

never meant to catch hearts

or make minds

feel my soul

it always feels good when it happens

but I never meant

to paint pictures of love

false or imagined

that made people want

to touch inside of me

some looking only to see

that they themselves

have similar needs

never meant my pen’s voice

to rise so high

or get so low

and never meant to warm

but I did

so much so until when

my heart flows

people make it their own

when it is not

take pictures

standing next to it

and call it love

when it never was

and when it is,

it is dimmed

by old verses

and I never meant to make

my heart so transparent

that it would invite leeches and parasites

to feast off of the life of me

many times I was just writing

to find my sanity

or to discover peace

to face reality

or get to know me

to rest in God

or hide in Him

I did all of that with my pen

even took a few sensual journeys

toying with ideas

with no intent

and somehow people touched

and agreed with me

I wrote love in ways

I wanted to believe

and in other times

I wrote prophetically

people think it just a line

when I say I follow my pen’s lead

but even this piece is taking me

where it wants me to be

I follow subconsciously

and I stumbled on great friendships

as the ink hit

and I also found faux dealings

but more than anything else

I found my soul healing

as eyes begin to digest my dreams

and look inside a tired soul

that still believes

and I saw good and bad things

as my pen leaked

I was linked to the past

and met my future

I grew up

and matured through lines

admitting how screwed up I am on the inside

recovered from heart ache a few times

and realized that some heart breaks

were just in my mind

because the love wasn’t

but again I never meant

to make my pen fly and dance

or die and resurrect

I didn’t mean to harness souls

that needed to be felt

even though I can relate

because on some days

on most days I need to be felt too

it was just my pen and I talking

we were and are

just trying to find our own way

when I speak of injustice

or misbehave

I am just following the dance

and the foreplay of my pen

and yes it is very honest and open

imaginary and real

illusive and alluring

endearing and silly

all parts of my heart

scratching the lines of paper

sometimes as awkward

as nails across a chalk board

or the way metal scrapes across paper

and makes flesh crawl

so I don’t know if it is me or my pen’s fault

that some become loved

or want to be

or I become loved

for a hot second

or that others want to take advantage

of the soft side of me

not remembering the soul survivor side of me

that will claw your eyes out with my bare hands

for even trying me

but then Jesus’s love reminds me

the battle is His

and so I followed my pen

and we found happiness

and relief in touching others

and I met angels and demons

along the way

funny thing is they really look the same

just act differently

and I didn’t mean to bleed out symphonies

or make melodies so pretty

that is just a part of me

I admit I trust foolishly

and rushed unduly

attaching myself to some that cause death

but through others my breath

was returned

and I learned so much

so my pen and I

get back in the saddle avoiding the hassle

of eyes that read

but don’t comprehend

taking selfishly

only what they want to see

and leaving dust settling in my mind

for me to sweep clean

but then my pen whispers lets write a new dream

and we do

and beauty is felt

because it is in me

and love is known

because I am as He is

and I die and live to write again

and I die to live and write again