there's a war going on and the battlefield is my body
and the battlefield's in ruins by the end of the day
every fighter wants his glory, every leader wants to win
shots fire, bodies fall, men cry in anguish and victory
then they leave the battlefield (or remain sectioned off into parts)
finished. war over. they are done and free (on earth or above)

but the battlefield, she is never free, always the setting of this scene
(they always start off fighting for her, but who wants a field of ruins?)
everyday they come and conquer, everyday tearing up the soil
red stains mar her pretty grass, a smokey haze masks her blue sky
and she is left alone, battered and bloodstained
as the victorious stomp triumphantly and the defeated lie heavy on her soil
but who will cry for the battlefield?
not the victorious and not the defeated, not the dead or passersby

i will cry

i will cry for the battlefield that is my body
and i will cry for freedom from these wars
freedom from law and time and practice
from everything but truth and beauty (and above all things, love)
i will cry because i'm sorry for this scene and these men
and because my heart is broken and keeps tearing without mend

i want to put a fence up and let none of those men in
they can find somewhere else to fight, this field is one of peace
go from here and don't come back
leave me to my grass and blue sky, my hummingbirds and golden rays
let me wait and watch for flowers to bloom and bring life to this place

all i'm asking for is freedom and some sunshine on cloudy days
for a hope to trust and walk with when the path is steep and long

i know i need You but i don't know where you are.
bring me peace, i beg you, drain this stream of tears
and pull me out of this ditch i've dug and laid in

i don't want to be here anymore.

"i don't think i remember how it goes"
"here, i'll hum it for you..."

---

movietheatre parking lot. tap tap tap. long silence (speechless shock). tap tap tap.

---

thursday - bidnight (the end of my freetime, i fear)
friday - me playing my very own concert (my joy and my terror)

i'm ready for halloween. is anyone else down for wearing little kid costumes and looking skanky/hilarious?
kay.

lately it seems like most of my time is spent in discontentment. waiting, wanting, wondering, wandering - but never resting or absorbing or even being where i am in actuality or physicality, nothing "real" can reach me. usually i'd be okay with that, up in my clouds floating about in my only little castle looking down, but this castle is a dungeon and it's buried in the ground and i seem to live here always and rarely come out.

romance pulls me lightward, but even it is growing tired (i can see it in his eyes sometimes and it only digs me deeper and i think he's coming too). i only pray that i am wrong and what i am waiting for and wanting will come (i don't remember what it is) or that some strength will pull me back to where you are, where all of you are.

all i can see is straight into the eyes of andrew zuckerman (garden state) the first night he was in town. we are sitting and staring and the room (the world) is spinning and zipping past, but i am still - not out of peace but defeat or weakness, confusion of where to go. they're going really fast and there is no way i can possibly catch up

until i get some sleep (for reeeeeeal, i need it)

dear world, please slow down and come back into technicolor. black and white zips of motion don't inspire me to move. dear love, please don't die in me and please don't leave my eyes. i see the darkness pressing on you and it breaks my heart. dear God, please light some match to sparkle and burn inside of me and bring me back to life.

is that cannon fire, or is it m heart pounding?
...the new German 77

yea?

c'est la vie?