those closest

It's like standing on a stage with all the world to see me. Everything's okay until I stand in the living room with the people closest to me. Eye to eye. Face to face. My voice trembles. My prose wobbles.

Why? Those closest will forgive. Those closest already know.

that I'm human

many

There are getting to be so many that I'm afraid I might choke.
Choke up.
Choke out.

they aren't dry anymore

chasing the sunlight: outrunning the shadow?

I was lying in the sunlight as it streamed in from the foyer window. It was warmer than other places in my house. But the shadows kept coming; was the light moving? I tried to write as the shadow raced down the page. Outrun it. Outrun it.

But I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!

Duh. No one can. Well... just One.

Not outrun. Overcome.

Come on. I need you to come over to my house. Help me throw all the doors and windows open. I know it's cold outside, but we've gotta do it anyway. We've gotta get so much light in here that the shadows hide. Come on. Hurry!

feeling dry

My Eyes are Dry
Keith Green, 1978

My eyes are dry, my faith is old.
My heart is hard, my prayers are cold.
And I know how I ought to be,
Alive to You, and dead to me.

Oh, what can be done for an old heart like mine,
Soften it up with oil and wine.
The oil is You, Your Spirit of love.
Please wash me anew in the wine of Your blood.

weird

There is none of us normal. We're all just different types of weird.

murder

They sucked the life out of my story. Then they stuffed it up with empty words and set it on the pedestal for which they said it was made.
I saw it there Friday, head below the torso, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I cried inside because its face used to have emotion, just like yours or mine. It used to cry and laugh; it had a soul.

But that's all gone now. And all that's left are its remains, set up on a pedestal for the world to read.