Perfected Imperfections

"Where words fail, music speaks."
— 8 months ago
Prayers

I’ve sent you a prayer hoping for the answers to questions that have left me uneasy
I’ve thanked you for all the things you done for me.
I’ve sent you a prayer asking you to help me to succeeded
I’ve cried out to you in the middle of the night
I’ve even gave you praise when everything was just right.
But lately something hasn’t been the same
It seems like you don’t hear me when I call your name.
Maybe I’ve gone astray
And Maybe my actions don’t add up with your ways.
Maybe my words aren’t the same.
Maybe you’re just ashamed
But lord, if you’re still near me,
If you can still hear me
Tonight when I pray I please just show me you still way.
Please show me you’re still there.
But above all else, Lord please show me you care.

— 1 year ago with 1 note
Addicted

Music is my addiction. Each note is like my soul’s petition.

With every riff, each run, a new signature is signed.

Each word holds the key to a chain that’s kept me bound.

The melodic sounds take me to a place that no one can take me away from.

With every inhale, every exhale, I regain a little more of ME.

Each key takes to places only God and I can see.

Music is everything I want to be.

I want to be heard.

I want to be felt.

I want to be understood.

Music says everything wish I could.

— 1 year ago
The only thing, besides God, I can’t go without.

The only thing, besides God, I can’t go without.

(Source: theycraveekash)

— 1 year ago with 13 notes
Live, Learn, &+ Love

Live, Learn, &+ Love

— 1 year ago
Apology

It hurts to hold someone else’s little hands.

It hurts to see someone else’s tiny smile.

It hurts to kiss someone else’s tiny feet.

It hurts to watch someone neglecting their responsibility.

It hurts to see that girl being the mother I’ve always wanted to be.

It hurts to hear cries that should’ve been yours.

It hurts now that I can no longer feel you grow.

It hurts to remember that I let you go.

I promised you protection, but I failed.

So i’m sending you this letter express mail.

This is my sincerest apologies.

I’m sorry, you never called me Mommy.

— 1 year ago

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

— 1 year ago