No Desire

I’ve just learned that today marks my three-year WordPress anniversary. How exciting! It’s so exciting that I’m going to celebrate it by posting a fairly depressing poem. How does that sound? Good? Good.

In all seriousness though, the poem is only depressing to the extent that it doesn’t present a whole lot of hope. I wrote it a couple of days shy of a month ago during a time when I was feeling very without hope, so it makes sense. The happy part about this is that I’ve beaten that feeling, by the grace of God, and now, honestly, have no idea what specifically had me feeling so down. I still know the feeling though– it’s still fresh. However, I don’t identify with it anymore and I believe that I have God to thank for that, as well as a few friends who are probably completely oblivious to the fact that they helped me in this way.

I’ll talk a little bit more at the end of this post, but for now: “No Desire”

I have no desire to be in this world anymore.
Yes, my friends, it has come to that.
It’s dark and loud and lonely here.
I love, but am hated. It’s a fact.

My truths are called lies and my sins discredit
Any wisdom that might flow from my mouth.
I quote and I quote, but they don’t believe me who said it
And like a plane shot in midair, we spin-spiral south.

They refuse to parachute to safety and won’t let me out.
They insist the plane is still flying and nothing is wrong.
So I scream, I flail, I cry and I shout,
I kick, I punch, and, in general, act strong,

But I don’t want to be here—burn on the way down
And explode in a ball of flames in the end.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to drown
When the plane hits the ocean, and I won’t pretend

To have any desire to be here right now
In this world loud, dark and lonely,
But I must stay and survive somehow
And simply accept that they will disown me

For my soul does not long to be loved by them
Though my heart and body ache to be.

Like I said before, I don’t remember what had me so down. It could be just about anything from trying to be a good Christian witness to politics to friendship problems, but it doesn’t really matter to me. Going back and rereading/rewriting this, I can still see how my brain was working and that interests me more than anything. I do still hope that the words mean something to any readers, but I also hope that if they do mean something, the words only remind the reader of something from their past that they have overcome.

Take from this poem what you will. I, personally, like it in the same way I like movies like The Passion of the Christ and Gran Torino.

MG

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