|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
I Smile when I prayI smile when I pray,
Because I feel you smile too.
And when I shut my eyes I know
That I crawl to your feet,
Twisted and estranged
Broken from the inside out.
And I cry out, choked,
"Look what I have done to myself!
See the flesh torn,
And the bruises many,
And the blood I have shed?"
And of course you see.
You saw it coming,
And you let it happen,
You brought it to me.
You gave me this,
And I couldn't love you more.
And I smile when I pray,
As my tears seep into Heaven.
And my blood creates rain
To shelter my heart from sun.
"Look what I have done."
Is all that I can whisper,
And I smile,
Because you smile.
You touch my heart
And put it back together.
Risking Everything...I'd rather risk losing it all and receive salvation, than to gain it all and lose the promise.
I risk everything to follow the Master, Even if I lose all of my friends...
It doesn't matter to me what anyone thinks of me when they see me or know me...
What really matters is what God thinks of me as he see's me every day.
I don't want to bother with people who waste my time, "Either speak life to me and be a good friend, or just flee 'cause I don't have time to waste."
I'd rather have one good friend than to have many friends who backbite.
yet... God has blessed me with more than one good friend.
I don't ask for much, and I don't know why, yet God blesses me even when I don't deserve it.
I speak what's in my heart, not just to please anyone 'cause I'm only here to please God.
hit me, yell at me, whatever you do... I will still bless you.
Enough said, I gotta get back to my school project...
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
if you need help making it through the dayremember:
Keep in Touch!