These days (weeks/months) I’ve been trying to write. But not just write, but to do so with candor and courage. And every single time, I’m finding myself either playing it safe, or editing out the dangerous parts. Cleaning it up or hiding behind metaphor to make it “universal.”
To write something less than truth means I’m either a coward or a liar. I’m not really sure which is worse…
Perhaps it’s both, really.
Jesus was right. Lukewarm lyrics or words or even a life makes you want to puke…
But in the dark hours of the night, and in the heat of the afternoon, thoughts roll out that alternately freeze the marrow or sear the soul, sometimes all at once. Icy clarity joins with fiery passion and the result are words/lyrics/poetry that must find some release…or else.
Hot or cold. Take your pick.
Metaphor still reigns, but the feelings are real. One day if I ever grow up, I’ll use big boy words to tell the story. For now, play the game with me one more time…
Do you wanna play a game?
How about pretend?
There’s no hurt, no pain
Just the illusion I maintain
And fear whispering the end is close at hand
So one day I’ll cross the river
Pay the ferryman his fee
I’ll collect my last belongings
The memories of me