Colorado

Creative Writing

The writings on this page were contributed by current and former NLP members.

On My Knees

I'm on my knees
My body is trembling
My heart is racing
Tears are flowing
The pain is searing

H is sleeping....

Rage is building

Control I seek
Chaos reigns
My head spinning

Peace, mercy, grace, strength I pray for Silence I receive..

This is a test...
The TEACHER is quiet during tests

At the altar I kneel with choices laid before me, unsure of which to choose...

Trust is broken never to be perfect again The loss is immeasurable...
Why do I even entertain any idea of love with someone who hurts me so greatly...

On my knees
I know what my next step should be..
My feet won't move me
The pain is too great..

This pain I feel is the pain of the children..
The broken promises
The shackles that bind me here tighten as I pull to break free..

"Never again".. I always believe
Here it is again I see...

When will my heart learn
Will my mind ever be free..

On my knees
My body trembling
My heart racing
The tears are flowing
The pain searing ...

At the altar I see
It's time to be free
Free from all that binds me...

Strength from HIS love I pray to set me free..

On my knees...

Jamie (2012)

Raw Emotions

How can I stay, when to look at you is pain?
My heart screams "I can't do this anymore" and the words reach my lips.
With tear-soaked cheeks I feel the reality of my words. Am I truly giving up this time?
I flash back to the kindness in your face a few days prior but to look at your cold stare
now sends chills through my body.
Who are you? I am in agony, yet you are hard as stone, emotionless and numb.
The tears start again as my thoughts start to spin, and I blurt out "I don't even know you."
It's true, it's true. Oh my! Who are you? I can't keep doing this again and again!
I cry from the deepest part of me, and still you sit there and stare. What is wrong with you?!?!
You cannot help me! If only you loved me as much as you love yourself.
I'm broken, lying on the floor so unspoken. You're rude without knowing.
One second you are there, and the next are gone.
Cruel and uncaring, time goes by, and I am still alone.
So uncaring; afraid to let me know what was going on.
And now we are staring into endless, unhappiness, pain.

Tiffany (2016)

Earthquake

I didn't even know I lived near a fault line, so it was completely unexpected when the earthquake shook my world. I was just walking along when I felt a slight tremor. I looked around, but everything seemed to be okay, so I kept walking. Then there was a violent shaking, the ground was unstable, huge cracks formed and I thought I might fall into one. It grew even worse, more violent, buildings crashing around me and even on me. As I crawled from beneath the rubble, I saw so much destruction. It was difficult to comprehend the extent of the damage.

Buildings I had thought were indestructible were leveled. These structures were important, vital parts of my life: trust, purity in marriage, honesty, security. Some other buildings were badly damaged: self-esteem, respect. Oddly, some new structures had been formed, but they were hideous. It was excruciating just to look at them: betrayal, questioning, adultery, deception, physical danger. Some buildings still stood strong, and they were the ones that gave me the strength to go on: God, faith, love, children, friends.

It's been days since the earthquake. I'm rebuilding now. The new foundation has been laid for trust. Repairs are being made to self-esteem and respect. I spend much time working on these, and seeing them becoming stronger is encouraging to me. However, sometimes I hear a noise or see movement in the area where the new, terrible structures arose. I look in that direction and think that I need to tear those down, but they look strong, and it could take a while. I'll need to get stronger before I can completely destroy them, and even then, some of them will probably always remain.

Sometimes, I glance back at the buildings I can't rebuild: purity in marriage, and I ache. Such an emptiness. I never thought that one would go. Others are missing too, I know they are, but I cannot name them right now. I just feel their absence. Sometimes, it's dark, and it's hard to work in the dark because I can't see what I'm doing.

Now I wonder what the future holds. Will I rebuild only to have another earthquake? I don't think I could do it again. I think the cracks would be too large, and I'd fall in. I want to believe that we've moved, that we're no longer near that fault line. I want to believe that, but my trust building in still under construction.

It's strange the feelings that emerge. Sometimes I'm happy to see how strong the love is, to see how the new building will be even more beautiful than the old. Sometimes I'm sad to see the ones I've lost and can never get back. Sometimes I'm angry for those ugly buildings that are always lurking there, mocking me. But usually, I'm somewhere in between.

I don't want to look back. I just want to rebuild. I want my world to be better than it was before. I want the ground to be steady. I want love unshakable and growing. Someday, I want my children to look at the work I've done and be proud. Someday, I want to look next to me and see my husband's world, not dim, not murky, but crystal clear. I want to see his world clean, no litter on the streets, no thieves hiding behind corners, all the lights on in the buildings. I want to see his love, faith, honesty, self-esteem, relationship with God, loyalty to me and family, happiness, all standing strong and everlasting.

Kelly (2003)

Broken

Broken heart, tattered dreams
The trust I gave, trampled
The Love of my heart
Held mine in his hand
He tossed it aside
So his mind could wander
The dream that only I filled his eyes is shattered
Myself a pathetic comparison to where his gaze has been
Desolate, aching heart, throbbing sorrow
As the reality of my inadequacy sinks in

It had always been too good to be true
That he should prefer me above all others
But this truth is harsh and merciless
Shredding my fantasy into the dust along with my crushed heart
How to entrust my bruised & battered self worth again?
Shame, mortification at the thought of baring my flawed form and wounded heart again
Yet the thought of the loss of him is devastation in my soul
How to fix cracks in our hearts and relationship?
Even in its despondency my heart longs for him
Longing for the dream
The dream that I am his beauty and only fulfillment
Will I ever sleep in that sweet bliss again?
Through the grief, my heart crawls back to him
Afraid to hope yet yearning for home
He is my home

Teresa M (2017)

To an unknown future

Wish I could stay
the sound of the sea
is good for my soul
it's warm
the sun shines
I am at peace

Even here though
bitter winds blow
as they do at home

I don't know who you are anymore
& who am I?

Anything of significance
requires vulnerability
a huge expense
a risk

The breeze blows
waves still break
travellers return
to an unknown future

On the last morning of our holiday - Hannah (2017)

Ascent

At the foot of the hill he lies,
Overcome, his face turned away,
His mouth full of dust.
From where he lies the hill looms high,
Its surface barren,
A grey waste of scree and pebbles.

Slowly, painfully he rises,
Gains first his knees, his hands,
Then at last his feet.

Beginning his ascent
He plants one step
Then another,
Feels shifting gravel underfoot
And slides a little, backwards.
Catching with his hands,
He stops the downward slide.

Once more, starting,
He ascends now with feet and hands,
Grasping at prominences,
Holding fast where he can
And making forward progress in small increments.

His pack grows heavy, and he lays it down.
Possessions once treasured are abandoned to the choice:
He must continue.

Further up the slope the sun becomes his enemy.
He hangs his head and seeks to hide
From its pitiless illumination:
In its light he can be clearly seen,
Splayed against the hill,
His shape unmistakable.
Crows (or are they vultures?)
Stoop to mock him
And to peck the naked surface of his shoulders.

Near the summit now, the goal in sight,
He turns and looks behind:
The way he came is long and narrow,
There are broken places in the path,
And now he cannot see how it was possible to traverse them.

Above lies something bright.

He stumbles to his feet and reaches,
Grasping at things he cannot see but knows are there.
Dimly he hears voices, some ahead calling,
Others behind urging him on.

Here at last he loses footing,
Slides upon his face,
Until only his hands remain atop the hill.
Gasping, he digs at the earth with bloody, broken nails
And struggles to arrest his fast descent.

And he is falling.

Till a hand comes, grasps his wrist,
And stops his fall.

For a long moment he hangs,
Dependent from this hand
That effortlessly pulls him up and to the top.
Standing face to face at last with Him whose hand it is, he rejoices.

And then the climber hears
The words he never knew he longed to hear:
Welcome;
Welcome home.

Kate

One Less

                  One less plate at the table
                  One less pillow on the bed
                  One less tooth brush in the bathroom
                  One less goodnight before bed

                  one less car in the driveway
                  one less voice in the hall
                  one less I love you
                  one less phonecall

                  One less tender moment
                  One less hug and kiss
                  One less shoulder to cry on
                  One less - the one I miss

      One more night alone
      One more tear to cry
      One more day of wondering
      One more question Why?

      One more heart is broken
      One more asks for prayer
      One more prayer is answered
      for new life partners is there.

      One less person hopeless
      One less day alone
      One more heart is healing
      because of the love you've shown.

Debbie S (2008)

The Dining Room Table

She sat there at the darkly polished dining room table, her reflection mirrored on its surface, in the middle of the great room, the beamed ceiling high above her, the fans lazily circling, pushing the warm air past her cheek. Her hands were folded on her lap, head bent, hair falling loosely across her face, obscuring her vision.

One would think it odd to sit just so. No curtains at the windows. Windows all round. French doors thirty feet across the room. Totally exposed.

And yet, here she sat. She glanced down, not wanting to look, but her eyes traveled there unwillingly. Totally naked she sat there. As if it were the natural thing to do.

The fact that she thought it natural was even odder. Although, her head was bowed for a reason. She was paying her dues. It was necessary, demanded really.

It was the only way to regain the peace. To stop the silence. That killing silence. It worked every time. Always paying for something, she thought. Well she would pay the price. It wasn't really her anyway. She wasn't really here. She was up there. On the ceiling. Looking down at this woman sitting naked in the middle of the day at the dining room table.

What was it this time? She couldn't remember. Maybe it was something she wore that wasn't quite right. Probably something she said or didn't say. Yes, that was it. It was usually the same thing. Just different versions.

So, this was the price. Stripped of all her defenses. A catharsis. She would pay his penance for him. He would be absolved. She was the Christ. He was the sinner. And everything would return to normal.

It was a good fix. Maybe one week or two, if she was lucky. Well, it was better than nothing. Two weeks of peace. Casual conversation. Sit together in church. Attend social functions. Smile. Return home. An uncomfortable truce.

Close her eyes and float away. It was just a body anyway. Really. He couldn't have her mind. He wanted it. She was certain of that. She could endure. She would survive.

She was certain.

Kathleen

Renewal

my life was stale
till You brought a breeze
the water had dried up
but You brought the seas

the forest had died
now the saplings are strong
the birds were silent
yet I hear a new song

is it truly possible
that all I thought lost
is being recreated
by the Lord of the hosts

I bow my head
as tears flow down
quiet in my heart
while He gives me a crown

Dory (2004)

Taking Back My Power

I am not a victim,
I have a voice.
I have a purpose,
God gave me the freedom of choice.

No longer will I sit here, paralyzed, willfully choosing to feel victimized.
I'm letting go of my painful past,
To embrace the best God has.

He promised to use the pain,
He promised none of it's in vain.
He's called me to a higher standard,
He's requiring of me to live a life wholly surrendered.

My hope is found in Him alone,
He is the one who sits on the throne.
My God said it would not be easy,
But He also promised that He would never leave me.

I choose to trust although I'm scared,
He promised to carry every single burden I bear.
The Bible says Joy comes in the morning,
But first I must accept the love he's freely outpouring.

I'm taking back the power I gave away,
Making room for His blessing and letting go of the pain.
My purpose in life is to be a beacon of light,
He's given me a story to remind others they must fight!

Melissa Wilson (2017)