… OVERLOOK THE LAST DAYS…
Thinking of the best way to tell the best one that they may not be the right one for me while on this current side of the spectrum…
Contemplating on how to tell the right now that it was fun back then but no longer can you be in my now so remove the idea of a future
Money come. Money go.
Love takes the same role.
Just a desirable man that’s mixed up in the future of his past.
"I’m in love with a woman I can’t have."
God is the only one who understands me
It shouldn’t take for everything to be perfect or going just the way you feel as tho they should for you to say thank you to God. Every sun you’re allowed to see rise and moon you’re allowed to see shine: every star that you have the opportunity to count and piece of earth you’re allowed to plant your feet on is reason enough to say thank you.
30 Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain; But a woman that feareth Jehovah, she shall be praised.
I questioned this new journey.
I tried to “predict” where God was leading me by using binoculars to look ahead.
I’ll stay prayed up and walk by faith like I was instructed to do.
God is doing a mighty work in my life and I know he isn’t done with me yet.
Faith is my stride; confidence on the tip of my toes, digging into the sands. With every step I take I nourish my foundation; building it stronger.
Morning mirror talk.
I read your words and they beyond inspire me. They aren’t the reason why I live but they sure are an added bonus to my life. The only shame is that you dont share them with anyone but me… I know I know you’re not a poet you aren’t trying to gain notoriety.. I know I know its just for you.
I love you for what you write
The beauty was in the struggle
I understand that now
I’ve been waiting for the morning rain.
I miss the softness.
I miss the moments where I could be wounded.
I miss the times where I could allow someone to see the tear fall and not be ashamed.
I miss the scent of the sweat after the chase.
I miss the warmth from our bodies touching.
I miss the smoke white waves crashing and the winding branches on the tree climbs.
I miss when a routine walk would turn into an epic adventure.
I miss when a mundane talk would transform into some powerful scripture , some powerful wisdom, some power.
I miss the journeys thru the uncut grass in the plains of your backyard.
I miss laying on the blanket staring at the sky, eyes weaving around the ripening orange tree and it’s branches and leaves.
I miss the leaves.
I miss the tree.
I miss everything but you.