"This is a time of war!" was exclaimed,
"The tension has gone on too long!"
"We must fight to the death to prove which of us
is the weak and which is the strong!"
With each thought and with each pulse,
the mind and the heart fought with pride.
Exhausted from battle, but each held it's own,
to conquer the great divide.
"I am the intelligence!" said the mind,
"The body uses me to survive!""
But I am the soul!" said the heart,
"Without me, you wouldn't be alive!"
Since the dawn of time, humans were confused
about which should lead the way.
"Follow your heart" says one human,
"It will never lead you astray."
"But the mind is our intellect, it uses facts,
it doesn't lead us into the dark!"
So for years this battle continued,
with each making it's own mark.
But this war, my friends, is never won-
and it carries on to this day.
One will drag you straight to hell,
the other just paves the way.
Showing posts with label meesa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meesa. Show all posts
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Jellyfish
Staring into the ocean
from the safety of my boat,
observing all the ocean life
as I comfortably float.
Wondering what's beneath the water
as the sun starts going down,
dreaming of diving in
but too scared that I might drown.
Intrigued by the jellyfish
but scared of the pain of its sting,
so I sit so quietly in my boat
writing a song to sing...
Oh to swim with the jellyfish
watching its beauty and grace,
intrigued by its wonder
but terrified of its embrace.
Knowing the jellyfish can hurt me
I keep my distance, and yet
I dream of swimming with jellyfish-
but it's much too much of a threat.
There once was a jellyfish
that effortlessly hypnotized me,
but I got too close and got stung
so I tried to set it free.
It left behind the painful scar
that I still feel to this day-
I tried so hard to let it go
but couldn't seem to get away.
I was terrified of its power,
the pain of its sting was strong.
I had to let the jellyfish go-
so I now I sing this song...
Oh to swim with the jellyfish
watching its beauty and grace,
intrigued by its wonder
but terrified of its embrace.
Knowing the jellyfish can hurt me
I keep my distance, and yet
I dream of swimming with jellyfish-
but it's much too much of a threat.
Hard to Handle
Sometimes I have a bad temper,
and an attitude to match.
Sometimes I get moody
and I seem a little detached.
Sometimes I just want to cry
because I get so overwhelmed,
and I always need to be reassured,
to be loved, to be held.
Sometimes I get bossy
when things don't go my way.
Sometimes I can be a diva
when I've had a long, tough day.
Sometimes I get too motherly
with the people I care about the most-
and I get so mad when people hurt
the ones I hold so close.
So don't tell me you love me
if I'm too much for you to handle.
Don't tell me you love me
if your love flickers out like a candle.
Don't tell me you love me
if your love casually comes and goes.
I'm hard to love but I'm worth it-
and I need a love that grows.
Sometimes I get bitchy
when my hormones are out of whack.
Sometimes I whine like a child
when I've done something to hurt my back.
Sometimes I get disappointed
because my life isn't what I thought it'd be,
and I need my man to lift me up
when I'm not at the best that I can be.
Sometimes I get a little too wild
when I go party with my friends.
Sometimes I stay out too late
and you'll wonder where I've been.
Sometimes I act too young for my age
but I see no good reason to grow old.
And I need someone to run wild with me,
that will never let our fire go cold.
So don't tell me you love me
when you see that I'm a little rough.
Don't tell me you love me
and then decide you're not man enough.
Don't tell me you love me
if you can't handle me at my worst.
I'm hard to love but I'm worth it,
and I'm sick of getting hurt.
Sometimes I get so bored with life
and my gypsy side wants to run.
Sometimes I long for the family life,
to grow roots with a special someone.
Sometimes I feel so hopeless
because I get a little lost in my own mind.
Sometimes I can't see the bright side
because my faith has gone blind.
Sometimes I dream of getting married again,
and having children of my own.
Sometimes I long for the American dream-
the white picket fence, the home.
Sometimes I lose sight of it all
and want to stay in bed for days.
I'll hate my jobs and the town I'm in
and walk around in a haze.
So don't tell me you love me
if you think I've become a burden.
Don't tell me you love me
if you just add to my hurtin'.
Don't tell me you love me
if it's just a downright lie,
I'm hard to love but I'm worth it
and need a man that won't make me cry.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Homesick Gypsy
Homesick Gypsy
©Meesa Caudill
Sitting in this fluorescent hell,
windows open, feeling the breeze-
daydreaming of the moment
when I can finally be free.
Needing the wind from a car window
blowing through my hair,
I need to feel the rush
of driving to the middle of nowhere.
My gypsy soul is homesick,
the road is calling my name-
I need to see the world
that's beyond this window pane.
I'm a homesick gypsy,
I need to be on the road.
This homesick gypsy
with nowhere to go.
Lord help this homesick gypsy
find her way home.
My daddy was a trucker so
I was born with diesel in my veins.
I can't be still in one place too long,
Lord, release me from these chains.
Put me in a car, in a plane, or
the train going down the tracks.
I'm so ready to get out of here
and never have to look back.
My gypsy soul is aching
to see the world with my own eyes.
I need to experience everything there is-
no tears, no regrets, no goodbyes.
I'm a homesick gypsy,
I need to be on the road.
This homesick gypsy
with nowhere to go.
Lord help this homesick gypsy
find her way home.
©Meesa Caudill
Sitting in this fluorescent hell,
windows open, feeling the breeze-
daydreaming of the moment
when I can finally be free.
Needing the wind from a car window
blowing through my hair,
I need to feel the rush
of driving to the middle of nowhere.
My gypsy soul is homesick,
the road is calling my name-
I need to see the world
that's beyond this window pane.
I'm a homesick gypsy,
I need to be on the road.
This homesick gypsy
with nowhere to go.
Lord help this homesick gypsy
find her way home.
My daddy was a trucker so
I was born with diesel in my veins.
I can't be still in one place too long,
Lord, release me from these chains.
Put me in a car, in a plane, or
the train going down the tracks.
I'm so ready to get out of here
and never have to look back.
My gypsy soul is aching
to see the world with my own eyes.
I need to experience everything there is-
no tears, no regrets, no goodbyes.
I'm a homesick gypsy,
I need to be on the road.
This homesick gypsy
with nowhere to go.
Lord help this homesick gypsy
find her way home.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Turning the Page
Turning the Page
©Meesa Caudill
Lost sight of what it meant to be me,
need a new chapter and a new pen.
Leaving behind what used to be,
and all of the pain I've been in.
Gonna let go and start all over,
a fresh, positive start in mind.
I realize I've gotta take care of me,
protect and love what's mine.
So I'm letting go of you and our past,
I'm exhausted from this rage.
It's time to write a new chapter in my life-
this is me turning the page.
Turning the page to write a new story
of the life with which I've been blessed.
I'm turning the page to begin a new chapter
without you and all of our mess.
I'm turning the page to start all over,
so many blank pages for me to fill.
I'm turning the page, it's all about me,
and what's left in my life that's real.
It's time to let go of the story of us
and start the story of me.
It's been long overdue, I'm so over you
and all of our history.
No more believing in fairy tales,
I've got one of my own to write.
So I'm grabbing my pen and healing my heart
and moving on with my life.
Friday, March 1, 2013
An Old Letter
An Old Letter
© Meesa Caudill
You could see the anguish in the handwriting,
shaking hands with each stroke of the pen.
You didn't have to look into his eyes
to see the pain he was in.
His despair is there on paper,
ink smudged from drops of tears
from the eyes the light disappeared from,
his soul weary for all those years.
I could tell from the letter he was exhausted,
so tired of putting up a fight.
All he needed was a glimmer of hope-
to have some faith, see the light.
I was the one he trusted to read it,
years before his light went out.
To read of his struggles and stresses,
to know his unselfishness without a doubt.
In some of the lines I see anger
and bitterness from a life unplanned.
Regret ate at his soul from the inside out-
he felt as if he were less of a man.
Even after reading it I tried to tell him
what a hero he was in my mind.
To him, he was a failure.
Misery the only thing he could find.
I blamed myself for taking away his youth-
my existence stole his dreams, his light.
I know his absence isn't my fault
because I had become his life.
His letter was written in darkness,
a man wanting so badly to be free.
But I know to this day he loved me so
because of the letter daddy wrote to me.
© Meesa Caudill
You could see the anguish in the handwriting,
shaking hands with each stroke of the pen.
You didn't have to look into his eyes
to see the pain he was in.
His despair is there on paper,
ink smudged from drops of tears
from the eyes the light disappeared from,
his soul weary for all those years.
I could tell from the letter he was exhausted,
so tired of putting up a fight.
All he needed was a glimmer of hope-
to have some faith, see the light.
I was the one he trusted to read it,
years before his light went out.
To read of his struggles and stresses,
to know his unselfishness without a doubt.
In some of the lines I see anger
and bitterness from a life unplanned.
Regret ate at his soul from the inside out-
he felt as if he were less of a man.
Even after reading it I tried to tell him
what a hero he was in my mind.
To him, he was a failure.
Misery the only thing he could find.
I blamed myself for taking away his youth-
my existence stole his dreams, his light.
I know his absence isn't my fault
because I had become his life.
His letter was written in darkness,
a man wanting so badly to be free.
But I know to this day he loved me so
because of the letter daddy wrote to me.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Bastard Child
© Meesa Caudill
Well I was born a bastard child
in the summer of '79.
My daddy was a good ol' boy
so he stuck by my momma's side.
Two weeks later they were wed
in a small ceremony in town-
daddy became a family man
and never let momma down.
He held tight to the Bible,
almost became a preacher man-
wanted a country life full of God
but momma didn't understand.
He started sippin' on the bottle
in the summer of '95.
He tried to drown all his regrets,
so sad, he hated his life.
Daddy was a God fearin' man,
momma was a gypsy soul.
Daddy wanted to grow country roots,
momma was always on the go.
I'm the twisted child of that union-
I'm the two halves of that whole.
Momma was always wanting more
than what Daddy could ever give.
She wanted to have fun, a nice car to drive,
she wanted a nice place to live.
We'd move at least once every year
because Momma would get so bored.
Pack up our things and start over again,
Daddy knew it was more than he could afford.
But Momma loved him with all her heart,
she just had an unsettled side.
And Daddy loved her the best he could,
often swallowing his pride.
Then one day he took his own life
and tore Momma's world apart.
Things haven't been the same since that cold day
when Daddy ripped out Momma's heart.
But she holds the faith that he taught her
so many years ago-
she tries to pass it on to this bastard child
but that child has a long way to go.
Daddy was a God fearin' man,
Momma was a gypsy soul.
Daddy wanted to grow country roots,
Momma was always on the go.
I'm the twisted product of that union-
I'm the two halves of that whole.
So now here I am, the bastard child,
left here to find my own way.
My Daddy's pride keeps me grounded,
while Momma's gypsy side makes me stray.
Torn between the two halves of myself
that mimic them so well-
hoping to find my Momma's faith
but fighting my Daddy's hell.
Well I was born a bastard child
in the summer of '79.
My daddy was a good ol' boy
so he stuck by my momma's side.
Two weeks later they were wed
in a small ceremony in town-
daddy became a family man
and never let momma down.
He held tight to the Bible,
almost became a preacher man-
wanted a country life full of God
but momma didn't understand.
He started sippin' on the bottle
in the summer of '95.
He tried to drown all his regrets,
so sad, he hated his life.
Daddy was a God fearin' man,
momma was a gypsy soul.
Daddy wanted to grow country roots,
momma was always on the go.
I'm the twisted child of that union-
I'm the two halves of that whole.
Momma was always wanting more
than what Daddy could ever give.
She wanted to have fun, a nice car to drive,
she wanted a nice place to live.
We'd move at least once every year
because Momma would get so bored.
Pack up our things and start over again,
Daddy knew it was more than he could afford.
But Momma loved him with all her heart,
she just had an unsettled side.
And Daddy loved her the best he could,
often swallowing his pride.
Then one day he took his own life
and tore Momma's world apart.
Things haven't been the same since that cold day
when Daddy ripped out Momma's heart.
But she holds the faith that he taught her
so many years ago-
she tries to pass it on to this bastard child
but that child has a long way to go.
Daddy was a God fearin' man,
Momma was a gypsy soul.
Daddy wanted to grow country roots,
Momma was always on the go.
I'm the twisted product of that union-
I'm the two halves of that whole.
So now here I am, the bastard child,
left here to find my own way.
My Daddy's pride keeps me grounded,
while Momma's gypsy side makes me stray.
Torn between the two halves of myself
that mimic them so well-
hoping to find my Momma's faith
but fighting my Daddy's hell.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Seeing In the Dark
Here's another brainstorm from a phrase that Jason Sheffield had given me a few months back when I asked for writing ideas.The phrases to start with were:
The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark
(Just to make sure no one gets confused- this is not a current life experience. Just a writing bug! lol!)
Soooo.... here's:
Seeing In The Dark
© Meesa Caudill
I lie awake and hear you breathing
mumbling something in your sleep-
I wonder what you're dreaming
and about the secrets that you keep.
I roll over and kiss your face
and hear you whisper a name...
it's not me you're calling out to-
and I've only got myself to blame.
All these years I've been blind,
not seeing what you need.
All these years you've given your all
and I can't give you any of me.
All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.
I was so arrogant to believe
you wouldn't find someone new.
Someone who could give their all-
give everything to you.
I underestimated your value,
didn't give you what you deserve-
and it took lying here in the dark
to see how much you're worth.
All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.
The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark
(Just to make sure no one gets confused- this is not a current life experience. Just a writing bug! lol!)
Soooo.... here's:
Seeing In The Dark
© Meesa Caudill
I lie awake and hear you breathing
mumbling something in your sleep-
I wonder what you're dreaming
and about the secrets that you keep.
I roll over and kiss your face
and hear you whisper a name...
it's not me you're calling out to-
and I've only got myself to blame.
All these years I've been blind,
not seeing what you need.
All these years you've given your all
and I can't give you any of me.
All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.
I was so arrogant to believe
you wouldn't find someone new.
Someone who could give their all-
give everything to you.
I underestimated your value,
didn't give you what you deserve-
and it took lying here in the dark
to see how much you're worth.
All these years you wanted a flame
and we didn't even have a spark-
it's taken all this time for me
to start seeing in the dark.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Time Flies
Time Flies
© Meesa Caudill
Momma always told me
times flies after 21...
looking back now she was oh so right-
where has all the time gone?
It seems like only yesterday
I was 8 years old
sittin' on my daddy's knee
hearing the stories he told.
Where did sweet sixteen go?
Learning to drive a car.
Turning 18, moving out on my own,
trying to follow my heart.
Time sure does fly when you're having fun
and even when times are hard.
Throughout the years you laugh and cry
and life takes a toll on your heart.
But oh, my child, life sure is worth it
when the memories make you smile.
Even looking back on all the tears,
it was worth it all the while.
Turning 21 and spreading my wings,
still just a kid in a grown-up world.
The partying, bars, and neon lights
put my head in a whirl.
Settling down, friends having babies,
losing love and family...
but no matter what, keeping my head held high
through pain and tragedy.
I reminisce on all those years,
and the little girl on my daddy's knee...
What would my 8-year-old self
think of the 33 year old me?
© Meesa Caudill
Momma always told me
times flies after 21...
looking back now she was oh so right-
where has all the time gone?
It seems like only yesterday
I was 8 years old
sittin' on my daddy's knee
hearing the stories he told.
Where did sweet sixteen go?
Learning to drive a car.
Turning 18, moving out on my own,
trying to follow my heart.
Time sure does fly when you're having fun
and even when times are hard.
Throughout the years you laugh and cry
and life takes a toll on your heart.
But oh, my child, life sure is worth it
when the memories make you smile.
Even looking back on all the tears,
it was worth it all the while.
Turning 21 and spreading my wings,
still just a kid in a grown-up world.
The partying, bars, and neon lights
put my head in a whirl.
Settling down, friends having babies,
losing love and family...
but no matter what, keeping my head held high
through pain and tragedy.
I reminisce on all those years,
and the little girl on my daddy's knee...
What would my 8-year-old self
think of the 33 year old me?
 |
| Add caption |
Monday, February 27, 2012
Where the Grass Grows on Tears - Survivor of Suicide
Where the Grass Grows on Tears
© Meesa Caudill
We talk to stone and spill our hearts,
not knowing whether we're heard.
Many regrets, unspoken goodbyes,
lives left behind filled with hurt.
Flowers and trinkets and tokens of love
placed with care on the ground.
Praying that one day our loved ones can rise
and see that we still come around.
We cringe on anniversaries,
flashbacks of moments frozen in our minds-
the last words they spoke echo in our brains,
the pain never erased with time.
Photos make us smile, but also make us cry-
videos tear us apart.
Wishing we could just touch their skin,
hear their voice, reanimate their heart.
But instead we're left here wondering
about the what if's, how's, and whys.
Wishing we could have just one more day
to convince them to save their own lives.
No chance for goodbye, no more "I love you's",
just lots of anger and pain through the years.
You left us here to sleep for eternity
in the land where the grass grows on tears.
© Meesa Caudill
We talk to stone and spill our hearts,
not knowing whether we're heard.
Many regrets, unspoken goodbyes,
lives left behind filled with hurt.
Flowers and trinkets and tokens of love
placed with care on the ground.
Praying that one day our loved ones can rise
and see that we still come around.
We cringe on anniversaries,
flashbacks of moments frozen in our minds-
the last words they spoke echo in our brains,
the pain never erased with time.
Photos make us smile, but also make us cry-
videos tear us apart.
Wishing we could just touch their skin,
hear their voice, reanimate their heart.
But instead we're left here wondering
about the what if's, how's, and whys.
Wishing we could have just one more day
to convince them to save their own lives.
No chance for goodbye, no more "I love you's",
just lots of anger and pain through the years.
You left us here to sleep for eternity
in the land where the grass grows on tears.
 |
| ©Meesa Caudill |
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Don't Go Fallin' For A Fallen Angel
Don't Go Fallin' for a Fallen Angel
© Meesa Caudill
I wish I was the perfect angel
that you see in your dreams
but sadly, my halo's a little rusted
and there's mud on my broken wings.
I get frisky when the horns appear,
you can tell by the smirk on my face.
I can go from good to bad in a second,
that's why I fell from grace.
So don't go fallin' for a fallen angel-
I don't want to pierce your heart with my horns.
Even the most delicate rose
can hurt you with it's thorns.
Don't let my rusty halo fool you
into thinking I'm good as gold-
I'm soft as heaven to be next to
but I'm hard as hell to hold.
I'll torment you with desire
and put you under my spell-
but don't try to hold too tightly
cause I'll drag you straight through hell.
I leave a trail of tears in my path,
shattered hearts I leave behind.
I can be as sweet as sugar
or I can make you lose your mind.
So don't go fallin' for a fallen angel-
I don't want to pierce your heart with my horns.
Even the most delicate rose
can hurt you with it's thorns.
Don't let my rusty halo fool you
into thinking I'm good as gold-
I'm soft as heaven to be next to
but I'm hard as hell to hold.
© Meesa Caudill
I wish I was the perfect angel
that you see in your dreams
but sadly, my halo's a little rusted
and there's mud on my broken wings.
I get frisky when the horns appear,
you can tell by the smirk on my face.
I can go from good to bad in a second,
that's why I fell from grace.
So don't go fallin' for a fallen angel-
I don't want to pierce your heart with my horns.
Even the most delicate rose
can hurt you with it's thorns.
Don't let my rusty halo fool you
into thinking I'm good as gold-
I'm soft as heaven to be next to
but I'm hard as hell to hold.
I'll torment you with desire
and put you under my spell-
but don't try to hold too tightly
cause I'll drag you straight through hell.
I leave a trail of tears in my path,
shattered hearts I leave behind.
I can be as sweet as sugar
or I can make you lose your mind.
So don't go fallin' for a fallen angel-
I don't want to pierce your heart with my horns.
Even the most delicate rose
can hurt you with it's thorns.
Don't let my rusty halo fool you
into thinking I'm good as gold-
I'm soft as heaven to be next to
but I'm hard as hell to hold.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Don't Make Me Fall In Love (A writing experiment...)
Time to clear the brain again! I was doing good on the writing each night for a few days but I slipped again. I just mixed up a cake and have it in the oven for 40 minutes, so I'm gonna take this time to spill out some thoughts in font. My buddy Jason Sheffield gave me a few key phrases to build on and so I think I'm gonna experiment with that. I'm gonna try to throw a few in, hopefully all if my brain will let me! Let's see where it takes me! (Again, thanks Jason!)
The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark
(okay, after a few minutes of deliberating, I don't believe I can do it with all of them at once. BUT I am going to allow the ideas to sink in and see what I come up with!)
Don't Make Me Fall In Love
© Meesa Caudill
Don't look at me
as if
I'm the only one in the room
if,
in your peripherals,
you're checking out
that girls
ass.
Don't speak to me
in that soft tone,
telling me your
secrets,
dreams,
and fears
if all you're doing
is trying
to convince me
to
fuck you.
Don't make me laugh
by being
charming
and witty
if the joke turns out
to be
on me.
Don't caress my skin
as if it's made of
priceless silk
if your only intentions
are to caress me
into
false intimacy.
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
and that I'm perfect
in your eyes
if you find perfection
in everything
with
tits.
Don't tell me that
you love me if,
in reality,
the only love
you have ever felt
is for
yourself.
Don't convince me
that I'm the only object
of your desires
if you get hard
at the
thought
of one of my
best friends
naked.
Don't fool me
into believing
that you're the perfect man
when my mind
(when logical)
knows there
is no such thing.
Don't make me
fall
in love
with
you.
The key phrases:
* Looking forward to the past
* Hitchhiking in a ghost town
* Dont make me fall in love
* Six feet under but climbing
* I'm not a sex toy
* Seeing in the dark
(okay, after a few minutes of deliberating, I don't believe I can do it with all of them at once. BUT I am going to allow the ideas to sink in and see what I come up with!)
Don't Make Me Fall In Love
© Meesa Caudill
Don't look at me
as if
I'm the only one in the room
if,
in your peripherals,
you're checking out
that girls
ass.
Don't speak to me
in that soft tone,
telling me your
secrets,
dreams,
and fears
if all you're doing
is trying
to convince me
to
fuck you.
Don't make me laugh
by being
charming
and witty
if the joke turns out
to be
on me.
Don't caress my skin
as if it's made of
priceless silk
if your only intentions
are to caress me
into
false intimacy.
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
and that I'm perfect
in your eyes
if you find perfection
in everything
with
tits.
Don't tell me that
you love me if,
in reality,
the only love
you have ever felt
is for
yourself.
Don't convince me
that I'm the only object
of your desires
if you get hard
at the
thought
of one of my
best friends
naked.
Don't fool me
into believing
that you're the perfect man
when my mind
(when logical)
knows there
is no such thing.
Don't make me
fall
in love
with
you.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Dreams of Alabama
Dreams of Alabama
© Meesa Caudill
It's been a long time since she's seen him-
since she wanted so badly for him to stay-
she lets her mind drift back a few years
to that warm, breezy night in May.
He was the only one she could see
in the bar's soft neon glow,
the world disappeared, no one else existed-
and for the night time moved so slow.
Such a short time she spent with him
but it made her want forever-
she never believed in love at first sight
until their precious time together.
She dreamed of Alabama starry nights
while lying in his embrace.
For just one night she imagined her life
surrounded by Southern grace.
Now her mind drifts off to Alabama-
but her memories have begun to fade,
life could have been so perfect
if her Alabama would have stayed.
It's been years since she's seen his face
and his dark chocolate brown eyes.
She gets a message that hes looking for her
and she begins to feel the butterflies.
The years apart have made her a cynic
so she puts the butterflies to rest,
but she can't stop the longing in her soul
and that aching in her chest.
She finds herself getting lost in daydreams,
trying to remember his dimpled grin.
Her thoughts get lost in Alabama
and she imagines what could have been.
She dreams of Alabama starry nights
and again lying in his embrace.
For just one more night she'll imagine her life
surrounded by Southern grace.
Now her mind drifts off to Alabama-
but her memories have begun to fade,
life could have been so perfect
if her Alabama would have stayed.
© Meesa Caudill
It's been a long time since she's seen him-
since she wanted so badly for him to stay-
she lets her mind drift back a few years
to that warm, breezy night in May.
He was the only one she could see
in the bar's soft neon glow,
the world disappeared, no one else existed-
and for the night time moved so slow.
Such a short time she spent with him
but it made her want forever-
she never believed in love at first sight
until their precious time together.
She dreamed of Alabama starry nights
while lying in his embrace.
For just one night she imagined her life
surrounded by Southern grace.
Now her mind drifts off to Alabama-
but her memories have begun to fade,
life could have been so perfect
if her Alabama would have stayed.
It's been years since she's seen his face
and his dark chocolate brown eyes.
She gets a message that hes looking for her
and she begins to feel the butterflies.
The years apart have made her a cynic
so she puts the butterflies to rest,
but she can't stop the longing in her soul
and that aching in her chest.
She finds herself getting lost in daydreams,
trying to remember his dimpled grin.
Her thoughts get lost in Alabama
and she imagines what could have been.
She dreams of Alabama starry nights
and again lying in his embrace.
For just one more night she'll imagine her life
surrounded by Southern grace.
Now her mind drifts off to Alabama-
but her memories have begun to fade,
life could have been so perfect
if her Alabama would have stayed.
Sleepy thoughts...
Sleepy Thoughts
© Meesa Caudill
Echos of memories
thunder through my head-
lyrics of sad songs
fill my thoughts in this bed.
These lonely, empty rooms
occupied only with ghosts from the past-
they're the only company I keep,
the only relationships that last.
Haunted always by yesterday,
full of fear of tomorrow-
pillows damp with tears,
soaked in all my sorrows.
Prayers answered strangely
but never how they were prayed-
I'll go on reminding myself
that God works in His own way.
So for now the sad songs keep playing
as I lie alone in bed,
praying for the echos to be silenced
and for the thunder to stop in my head.
© Meesa Caudill
Echos of memories
thunder through my head-
lyrics of sad songs
fill my thoughts in this bed.
These lonely, empty rooms
occupied only with ghosts from the past-
they're the only company I keep,
the only relationships that last.
Haunted always by yesterday,
full of fear of tomorrow-
pillows damp with tears,
soaked in all my sorrows.
Prayers answered strangely
but never how they were prayed-
I'll go on reminding myself
that God works in His own way.
So for now the sad songs keep playing
as I lie alone in bed,
praying for the echos to be silenced
and for the thunder to stop in my head.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Run Away
Run Away
© Meesa Caudill
Run away, little girl,
run from your fears.
Run from your past,
run from your tears.
Run from the pain
that rips at your soul,
run from the regrets
of mistakes long ago.
Run away from love
so your heart won't break.
Run away from committment-
if you don't give, they can't take.
Run away from God-
He's taken so much from you.
Run away from the demons
that always show through.
Run away from everyone
that tries to get too close.
Run away from the ones
that love you the most.
Run away from it all,
keep running forward.
But stop to ask yourself-
what are you running toward?
© Meesa Caudill
Run away, little girl,
run from your fears.
Run from your past,
run from your tears.
Run from the pain
that rips at your soul,
run from the regrets
of mistakes long ago.
Run away from love
so your heart won't break.
Run away from committment-
if you don't give, they can't take.
Run away from God-
He's taken so much from you.
Run away from the demons
that always show through.
Run away from everyone
that tries to get too close.
Run away from the ones
that love you the most.
Run away from it all,
keep running forward.
But stop to ask yourself-
what are you running toward?
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Thunderstorm of You
Thunderstorm of You
© Meesa Caudill
My life was like a cloud-free day,
not a drop of rain in sight.
The air was crisp, the beginning of fall-
a perfect autumn night.
With just one glance you were there,
no warning, no alarm.
Like a funnel cloud to a storm chaser
I was entranced by your charm.
Our first days together were sunny and bright,
a few rainbows here and there.
And suddenly there was a dark cloud,
a heaviness in the air.
I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?
The tears poured down like torrential rain,
your voice so loud, so full of thunder.
No flash flood warning to save me this time-
I felt myself go under.
Our angry words were hailing down,
striking our souls to the core.
I tried to run, tried to hide-
needed shelter from the storm.
So now I wait while it passes,
praying for crisp air and clear skies.
Hoping I no longer see
the dark clouds in your eyes.
I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?
© Meesa Caudill
My life was like a cloud-free day,
not a drop of rain in sight.
The air was crisp, the beginning of fall-
a perfect autumn night.
With just one glance you were there,
no warning, no alarm.
Like a funnel cloud to a storm chaser
I was entranced by your charm.
Our first days together were sunny and bright,
a few rainbows here and there.
And suddenly there was a dark cloud,
a heaviness in the air.
I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?
The tears poured down like torrential rain,
your voice so loud, so full of thunder.
No flash flood warning to save me this time-
I felt myself go under.
Our angry words were hailing down,
striking our souls to the core.
I tried to run, tried to hide-
needed shelter from the storm.
So now I wait while it passes,
praying for crisp air and clear skies.
Hoping I no longer see
the dark clouds in your eyes.
I had my days in the sun
and then the clouds came rollin' in.
I didn't heed the warning
when the thundering began.
My heart was struck by lightening,
there was a flash, and we were through.
How in the world does a girl survive
the thunderstorm of you?
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
4 years, 6 months, 3 days...
Not one day has passed, not ONE, that I haven't thought about my dad.
Not one week has passed that I haven't had at least one dream with him in it, be it a nightmare or bittersweet.
And not one moment goes by that I don't wish with everything in my still-broken heart that he was still here.
It's been four and a half years now. The pain is more tolerable now, or at least I've learned to live in denial like a pro. It still hurts though, even if it doesn't feel like it's killing me. It's only unbearable when I really allow myself to think about the details. I don't do that very often. I still hear that I need professional help to deal with it, even though it's been so long now. And a few months ago I finally allowed myself to admit that those who have told me that are right.
Often times, before I write one of my notes, blogs, or statuses about him or my son, I wonder if people are sick of reading about it. I don't understand why I even care. So many times throughout my days, I walk around with a smile on my face or trying to make jokes in order to make everyone around me feel good. I try not to show my true emotions because I know most people don't know what to say and it makes them uncomfortable.
So many times I've wondered what he was thinking in the split second before he pulled that trigger. I know he was arguing with his mother about my mom. Was he angry? Was he hurt? Or was he just so sick of the bullshit that he just didn't care anymore? Did he think about me? Did he think about what he was doing to my mom, my sister, his grandchildren? Why didn't he leave us a note? He knew he was going to do it. Why didn't he call?
And so many times I get angry with everyone. I'm angry at almost his entire family. I would go through and list everyone and my reasoning behind it but I won't allow myself to do that. I'll wait until I can afford a shrink to go through my list one-by-one. All I can say is that I hope each of them feel the pain I do, tenfold, every day. No matter how much I love them, I blame them for my dad not being here. I know that a psychiatrist will assure me that I'm just fucked in the head and there's no one to blame but him, but I will always see things differently.
I wonder who will walk me down the aisle if I ever get married again. I don't even know if I'll ever be able to without him. He always said he wouldn't "give me away" twice. Guess he wasn't lying.
If I ever have another child, he won't be here. He left when I was pregnant with my son and that kills me. Didn't he even want to meet him if I had made it to full term? Did he think we'd be better off without him???
Although it's been over four years, the pain has become more tolerable but the questions remain. And the anger... the anger sometimes sears through me, so much so that I feel like I could burst into flames.
I am angry at the world.
If I ever have another child, he won't be here. He left when I was pregnant with my son and that kills me. Didn't he even want to meet him if I had made it to full term? Did he think we'd be better off without him???
Although it's been over four years, the pain has become more tolerable but the questions remain. And the anger... the anger sometimes sears through me, so much so that I feel like I could burst into flames.
I am angry at the world.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Liar, Liar
Liar, Liar
© Meesa Caudill
Liar, liar
your tongue's on fire
from telling all those fibs.
Liar, liar
you're such a crier
when I find out what you did.
"Baby, please believe me!" you say
as the lies roll off your tongue.
You carry the burden of all your stories,
I bet they weigh a ton!
Go find someone to believe your bull
and the venom that you spew.
There's no emotion left in my heart,
no more trust for you.
Liar, liar
your tongue's on fire
from telling all those fibs.
Liar, liar
you're such a crier
when I find out what you did.
You tell me that she's just a friend
so why are her pictures in your phone?
I don't need a liar in my life...
I'm better off alone.
She calls you on the weekend
late at night when we're apart.
You tell me she means nothing to you
but I know better in my heart.
So take your lies, and go to her-
maybe she'll believe your stories are true.
But as for me, I'm done with the drama,
and I'm done with you.
© Meesa Caudill
Liar, liar
your tongue's on fire
from telling all those fibs.
Liar, liar
you're such a crier
when I find out what you did.
"Baby, please believe me!" you say
as the lies roll off your tongue.
You carry the burden of all your stories,
I bet they weigh a ton!
Go find someone to believe your bull
and the venom that you spew.
There's no emotion left in my heart,
no more trust for you.
Liar, liar
your tongue's on fire
from telling all those fibs.
Liar, liar
you're such a crier
when I find out what you did.
You tell me that she's just a friend
so why are her pictures in your phone?
I don't need a liar in my life...
I'm better off alone.
She calls you on the weekend
late at night when we're apart.
You tell me she means nothing to you
but I know better in my heart.
So take your lies, and go to her-
maybe she'll believe your stories are true.
But as for me, I'm done with the drama,
and I'm done with you.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Nothin'
Nothin'
© Meesa Caudill
He says he's workin' late tonight,
don't bother waiting up...
walks in the door at 3 am,
smelling like the club.
But smoke and bourbon can't hide the smell
of perfume on his shirt,
Pretending to sleep, holding back tears,
she lets anger replace the hurt.
Next morning as she cooks breakfast
he reads the paper to relax.
He sees the look on her face, guilt eats him away,
"What's wrong?" he start to ask.
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."
But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's fire in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she sees through your lies.
Don't think she's naive when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".
He's still "at work" at midnight
and she knows it'll be hours before he's home.
She's out on the town with her best friends...
it's her turn to roam.
Tall, dark, and handsome is standing by the bar,
and he keeps looking her way...
some flirty conversation and a few drinks later
she decides to play.
She's cozy in bed by the time he gets home,
now the guilt kicks in for her.
Pretending she's asleep, she can't hold back the tears,
and she can't hide the hurt.
He kisses her gently on the cheek
as he climbs into bed.
As she kisses him back he can barely see her face,
wet from the tears she's shed.
He's afraid to hear the painful answer
to what he's known all along
wrapping his arms around her,
again he ask's "What's wrong?"
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."
But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's guilt in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she tells her own lies.
Don't think she's innocent when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".
© Meesa Caudill
He says he's workin' late tonight,
don't bother waiting up...
walks in the door at 3 am,
smelling like the club.
But smoke and bourbon can't hide the smell
of perfume on his shirt,
Pretending to sleep, holding back tears,
she lets anger replace the hurt.
Next morning as she cooks breakfast
he reads the paper to relax.
He sees the look on her face, guilt eats him away,
"What's wrong?" he start to ask.
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."
But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's fire in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she sees through your lies.
Don't think she's naive when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".
He's still "at work" at midnight
and she knows it'll be hours before he's home.
She's out on the town with her best friends...
it's her turn to roam.
Tall, dark, and handsome is standing by the bar,
and he keeps looking her way...
some flirty conversation and a few drinks later
she decides to play.
She's cozy in bed by the time he gets home,
now the guilt kicks in for her.
Pretending she's asleep, she can't hold back the tears,
and she can't hide the hurt.
He kisses her gently on the cheek
as he climbs into bed.
As she kisses him back he can barely see her face,
wet from the tears she's shed.
He's afraid to hear the painful answer
to what he's known all along
wrapping his arms around her,
again he ask's "What's wrong?"
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."
But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's guilt in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she tells her own lies.
Don't think she's innocent when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".
Monday, January 10, 2011
Growing Up and Saying Goodbye
"“Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling world.” ~ Sylvia Plath
And I'm left wondering, yet again, about what happens to the human soul once we are breathing no more.Do we get to witness our own funeral and burial before going off into the unknown? Do we 'rest' and await judgment day? Do we immediately go to the gates of Heaven and meet the ever-so-famous St. Peter? Do we get to meet God at the moment we take our last breath? Is there a God? What's He like? Is He the mean, punishing God that we read about in the First Testament of the Bible, or the forgiving, loving, understanding God that the New Testament portrays?
For the rest of my life I will remember those who've passed on as forever young. They will never have to deal with getting old, losing more loved ones, disease, tragedy, the aches and pains each passing year brings our bodies. They will remain the age they were at their last breath for eternity. I may cry because I miss their presence but I do not cry for the dead. I cry for those of us they left behind to mourn, to grieve. I cry for those that are hurting and not sure where to go from here. I cry for those who will miss out on cherished memories they could have had with those that have passed. I cry for the babies who will miss their daddies. I cry for those little girls who will never have their daddy there to walk them down the aisle when they get married. I cry for the mothers they left behind that ache to hold their children just one last time. I cry for the friends and loved ones who will no longer be blessed by the presence of those we hold so dear.
In memory of those lost along the way... may they always stay forever young.
There are so many more that I'm sure I'm forgetting. Please let me know if there are any I should add.
May they rest in peace and God bless their souls.
"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived." ~ George S. Patton, Jr.
I just went to the visitation of a man I went to middle school with. He was the husband of my best friend from my teenage years. He was murdered five days ago. Tomorrow I will go to his funeral, pay my respects, and say goodbye.
What happened to the adults we were supposed to be when we were younger? None of us were supposed to die before we were 80. We were all supposed to be rich and successful. We were all supposed to be invincible. We were all supposed to be healthy and happy until our silver years.
So many people from my yearbooks are gone. Taken away by death. And so many of those who are still breathing have been taken away by drugs. So many who will never have children. So many who will never see the children they do have grow up. So many who will never know their full potential, or what could have been. So many who have let their lives go because of that buzz, that warmth of the drugs that invade their systems, that money that comes with selling those pills, weed, crack, etc. When we were kids, we were all gonna be rock stars. We were supposed to be doctors, lawyers, scientists, engineers, the first woman president...
Now there are so many who are buried, behind bars of a jail or prison, or trapped by addictions. So many of us that didn't come to meet our full potential. So many of us are lost in dreams of what might have been had we taken the road that we were 'supposed' to.
Now I sit here wondering what happened to those youngsters who dreamed of fame, fortune, and success. I wonder at what point did we give up and give in to the people we became. I wonder when the moment was that we realized that those dreams were just us grasping at a reality that was just impossible so we became who we are today.
What happened to the adults we were supposed to be when we were younger? None of us were supposed to die before we were 80. We were all supposed to be rich and successful. We were all supposed to be invincible. We were all supposed to be healthy and happy until our silver years.
So many people from my yearbooks are gone. Taken away by death. And so many of those who are still breathing have been taken away by drugs. So many who will never have children. So many who will never see the children they do have grow up. So many who will never know their full potential, or what could have been. So many who have let their lives go because of that buzz, that warmth of the drugs that invade their systems, that money that comes with selling those pills, weed, crack, etc. When we were kids, we were all gonna be rock stars. We were supposed to be doctors, lawyers, scientists, engineers, the first woman president...
Now there are so many who are buried, behind bars of a jail or prison, or trapped by addictions. So many of us that didn't come to meet our full potential. So many of us are lost in dreams of what might have been had we taken the road that we were 'supposed' to.
Now I sit here wondering what happened to those youngsters who dreamed of fame, fortune, and success. I wonder at what point did we give up and give in to the people we became. I wonder when the moment was that we realized that those dreams were just us grasping at a reality that was just impossible so we became who we are today.
And I'm left wondering, yet again, about what happens to the human soul once we are breathing no more.Do we get to witness our own funeral and burial before going off into the unknown? Do we 'rest' and await judgment day? Do we immediately go to the gates of Heaven and meet the ever-so-famous St. Peter? Do we get to meet God at the moment we take our last breath? Is there a God? What's He like? Is He the mean, punishing God that we read about in the First Testament of the Bible, or the forgiving, loving, understanding God that the New Testament portrays?
For the rest of my life I will remember those who've passed on as forever young. They will never have to deal with getting old, losing more loved ones, disease, tragedy, the aches and pains each passing year brings our bodies. They will remain the age they were at their last breath for eternity. I may cry because I miss their presence but I do not cry for the dead. I cry for those of us they left behind to mourn, to grieve. I cry for those that are hurting and not sure where to go from here. I cry for those who will miss out on cherished memories they could have had with those that have passed. I cry for the babies who will miss their daddies. I cry for those little girls who will never have their daddy there to walk them down the aisle when they get married. I cry for the mothers they left behind that ache to hold their children just one last time. I cry for the friends and loved ones who will no longer be blessed by the presence of those we hold so dear.
In memory of those lost along the way... may they always stay forever young.
Lee Adams - 12-6-1992
Tedman "Ted" Allan Birchum - 16 years old - 8-20-1993
Tedman "Ted" Allan Birchum - 16 years old - 8-20-1993
Jay Chappell - 16 years old - 5-17-1994
Brandon Odom - 16 years old - 5-17-1994
Brad Johnson - 15/16 years old - 1995
Ike Davis - 18 years old - 4-20-1999
Aaron Mills - 22 years old - 4-20-1999
Shane Kimberling - age?
Shane McCormick - 31 years old - 7-10-1999
Laura Webb - age?
Richard Quesenberry - 8-16-2008
Brian Smith - 2010
Rocky Adams - 33 - 1-4-2011
There are so many more that I'm sure I'm forgetting. Please let me know if there are any I should add.
May they rest in peace and God bless their souls.
"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived." ~ George S. Patton, Jr.
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