A lot to think of

My mind is full of broken thoughts, twisted sentences, dark ideas. I don't even know where to start. All I want is a little quiet in my head to start thinking. One night of peace with no ghosts coming out of the corridors of my mind. If the memories would just fade for a while, if they would just disappear till I'm ready to deal with them.
Why is it that the dark, bad things take over our minds and no matter how hard we try to focus on the good things they just blur until I can't recall them or they feel like a million miles away? Why can't we ignore the bad just like we can ignore the good?

All I can see is shadows but I'm searching for some light. I just want one moment of silence. That is all.

Snow white queen

Stoplight, lock the door.
Don't look back.
Undress in the dark,
And hide from you,
All of you.

You'll never know the way your words have haunted me.
I can't believe you'd ask these things of me.
You don't know me.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you.

Wake up in a dream.
Frozen fear.
All your hands on me.
I can't scream

I can't escape the twisted way you think of me.
I feel you in my dreams and I don't sleep.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you

I can't save your life,
Though nothing I bleed for is more tormenting.
I'm losing my mind and you just stand there and stare as my world divides.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you. 





I was going through my music today and came across this song. Last year Evanescence was a favorite of mine and I went through her albums, every week having a new favorite song. This song, Snow White Queen, never became a favorite because I had no connection with the lyrics. Now however I found the words resonating in my soul. 


We all know oppressive people, people who take more than they should. Some times they leave more than memories or scars in their wake. Sometimes they leave a trail of broken china, shattered glass, a trail that hurts more healing then it did being forged. And it seems like our hearts will never be the same. 


The chorus especially speaks to me. I've felt the oppressive hands, the penetrating eyes, the lips twisted up into a sneer that enthralls, ensnares and repulses you. 


Memories haunt me, stalk my nightmares, flit through my thoughts, darkening even the brightest sunshine from my eyes. And I can't stop screaming inside. 

Rolling in the deep

We could have had it all. Rolling in the deep;
You had my heart inside your hand;
and you played it to the beat.

These words really ring with me. I feel like I'm rolling in the deep, turning over and over surrounded by unbearable pressure, suffocating in dark clouds of thick grey silk. I feel like I've fallen off the edge, slipped on the  dark rocks and now am plunging through the angry, white capped waves.
Some days are just harder than others. Today was one such day. Inside I just wanted to curl up my bed and hide from the world. Alas it was not to be. I had to preform, like a puppet with a painted smile, fake happiness and bounce around all day. And now, when the world has laid it's head to rest, I pace the confines of my mind, searching for the door though which I would cast away the dark thoughts and horrid memories that haunt me. However the door has disappeared, lost in the cavorting maze inside my head. And I'm rolling in the deep.

One chapter falls away

I've turned the page in my life. One chapter falls away, pages scented with lilac, bleached by the sun, wrinkled by tears. Crisp new pages, with even lines, flawless pages lie ahead of me, waiting for the messy pen of my life to blot the clean whiteness with dark, black ink. Ink that stains and won't wash away, it spills over the clean, straight lines, tainting the tips of my fingers black. Ink is permanent, is forever.

No amount of tears will wash the stained pages clean, no amount of sun will make the deep black fade. But with the stains comes abstract beauty. Beauty of a life well lived, not one held in fear, but one marked with the courage to write on the pages, with the courage to push on despite knowing the ink will stain forever.

I'm on my own now, alone. Independent. A summer of the next stage of my life. The stage is mopped, the lights are primed and ready to single me out. Will I dance on this stage? Or will I succumb to the open eyes, the staring  gazes of an audience waiting for you to trip and fall, bringing your production to a screeching halt?

 Maybe I will fall, a great fall of gasps, cries, bruised knees, and torn clothes. The dance will fail, the lights will shine cruelly down, brining my humiliation and tears into stark, harsh reality. It's all quite possible. I'm may flounder through my steps, I may trip and fall, I may turn right when the music calls for a turn left. There are so many ways I could fail at this complex dance of life. But I forget that the dance is not mine alone, there are other dancers who trip and fall, who pick me up when I've fallen, who wipe my tears and carry me when my feet are too swollen for my shoes.

But I can say I've danced. Maybe it's not a dance but more of a stumbling crawl across the extravagant stage.  Maybe my fears will rule me, trapping me in the dark recess of stage right, hidden by thick curtains, watching the dancers move like graceful swans across their stage. I want to dance.

And I will dance. I will dance to my own music, with my own steps, be it wild and crazy, subdued and timid, or uncoordinated and awkward. I will not dance to the music of others, or the the steps they think I should follow. I will dance a dance that I create. It's my dance and I will dance.

Just like these pages. They are my pages and no one can stain them except me. No one can write in them except me. Every stain is by my own hand, every blot has a story in my life. And only I can understand the uniqueness of the stains. Only I can see the beauty in the ugliness that I have wrought. Because He makes everything beautiful. There is beauty in every stain, every scar, every torn page or crinkled tear mark.

A new chapter awaits, and the blank pages are daunting, but with the Light at my side I will press on, touch my pen to the paper and let the ink flow, a glistening, shimmering stream in the light. Ugliness made beautiful by the Light.

The stand

I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned
In awe of the one who gave it all
I'll stand my soul Lord to you surrendered
All I am is Yours

Today I found myself on my knees in a little corner broken and helpless. Love poured all around me, undulating in it's intensity and glory, reverberating through my soul. Still I felt empty, hard, like a shell tossed on the waves, always sinking only to be stirred up again by the violent tempest that surrounds me.
How I long to me able to feel again. How I long for freedom, no longer a prisoner inside my own flesh. Feel to express the torment inside of me. Free to cry when I need to. Instead my insides burn and tremble with withheld emotion but I can't express it in any way except physical pain.
The vortex pulls at me but today I can withstand it. Today I can rise above the waves on hands of Light.