TRUTH

Back in the day when caffeine and weed flowed through my veins, I would rush to stretch my imagination to making the tiniest of things, experiences, desires, hopes, dreams, Something. A tapestry of creative poetry and prose would drip like rich molasses from my pen and I would feel alive again and again….. I miss this me.

Back when the devil prompted my thoughts and deeds I would carve out pieces of the day just to express myself in some way…..if this were then I’d share my desire to be more than held, to be kissed on the forehead, to watch him undress…..slowly, to dot kisses down his chest, over his hips, in search of that spot that makes his eyes roll back. I’d weave a collage of tender touches to urge a burning response from some unsuspecting soul.

Yes, if I were the former me I would have captured the cloud covered mountain tops this morning and would speak at length of that day at the beach…. how in the chill of the evening sunset he ran by once, then twice, then more times than I could count. I would admit I watched keenly as he stopped to stretch his overworked muscles…..I would confess that he sparked more than a little interest….but this is not then, and to move forward one has to let go of the who you were, in order to Become.

But a part of me wishes that creative spirit would return; that the block would be removed; that I didn’t care about my part in causing sin; that I could justify my actions in my mind…..but I can’t. I can’t turn back time, nor can I sit on the fence…to follow the Lord one must give up oneself to be Molded, Changed, Set Free….but couldn’t that be with the yearning still to write, to fill blank pages with Some things.