I don't know if I belong in church yet

but
you don't have to be perfect
to be perfect
no no
you don't have to be perfect
to be worth it
I was only looking to nurture
ever since I heard that
the world won't stop turnin
even if we manage to burn it

so I'll just sit in these suburbs
and try to free myself from this curb cuz
my mind is stuck on that December
a month spent slurrin love for her and
I know I will never earn it
just got to let the world keep turnin
while I sit and ponder this earth and
all the crazy people that are workin for the weekend
and missing the middle, thats five out of seven days you are shirking
just to go out and forget what you learned
from all the hurtin you endured


I can't stop this talking
because I am clasped by your eyes
but my mouth keeps running without my mind
hiding behind this night and all my dreams
while
my fingers push along this inky kite
like a bike in mid flight
just waiting
to land
to see
that the sky isn't everything
until it meets the sea
to tell it
that you don't have to be perfect
to keep searchin for a purpose
you don't have to be perfect
but I'm nervous
that you think I need to be
so I keep reminding myself
that I'm not perfect
and anyone that expects
nothing but perfection from us blemished mirrors
will fall to depression
because without Jesus we wouldn't even know perfect
and we don't have to be perfect
to benefit from his work
we don't have to be perfect
to serve him

puddle knuckle problems

this one time
I said this one thing
about this other time
that I said too much
thoughts
are stuck inside this tunnel I've been building
trying to bridge the two halves of my heart
with yesterdays broken dreams and tomorrow's hopeful scenes
by mixing them together into today's slowest streams of consciousness
creeping along, a tributary for this river
of something I could never hold
merely watch
as it sails away
into the bottom of this page
finding new horizons with every twist and every turn
winding east and west
chasing the sun as it rises and sets
and on the off chance the river and I cross paths, I'm ready to copy and paste the taste of dancing water into this frozen prose that I know won't solve a thing but I still throw my only bone into this notebook trying to make it grow and show you moments that I stole
because
I'm too scared to let the unknown roam without me
I've got to know, I've got to go
so before you tell me to slow
I'll be on the road
kickin rocks at the moon
just trying to leave my own dent

socks with no shoes

please
let me say this
before it says me
I'm traveling through this void
in a constant battle with my words
they are always trying to slip from my mouth
vigilance is not enough so I find these empty corners
and fill them with the puddles of blood
oozing from the tip of this pen I've stuffed with hazy memories
of sunny days and otterpops
of snowy nights and hot chocolate
of leaves below and clouds above
with me in between trying to find the margin
to maybe feel complete
cuz
I'm a boat without a crew
I'm a sky without the blue
I'm a song that's out of tune
I'm a mirror without you
I'm a tool that's never used
I'm the end and I'm confused
because I could have sworn this had just started
but I'm just a kid without a clue

this is where a title should go so I shall write these words in order of appearance

tomorrow
a book on a shelf
but I don't want to open
I don't want to see
I don't want to know if I'll get to sleep
I just need to find a reason to read
I need a step ladder because tomorrow is out of reach
every time I think I'm reading tomorrow it becomes today
and today I feel like writing
so instead of reaching for tomorrow I'll hold on to the tale of today
that I spend every moment editing
as if someone else might feel like reading

I got drunk and was writing with a pencil

Graphite trying its best to stick to this wall and be something
words, big pencil
weird to write
stuck on this utensil
I'm just tracing along a stencil
that my mind cuts out for me
like a parent
keeping the crust for itself
while I frolic through the middle
skipping through my field of inky splotches
within this plane of consciousness