*Clear throat* You! Yes, you are cordially invited to this year’s masquerade ball! All you need is a mask! Come one, come all! Drink, take pleasure in one another, be merry Overindulge to your heart’s content! Just leave your ugly face hidden under that mask We don’t want to hear about your problems ladies and gents! Ain’t nobody got time to try and dig to try and see you So just get a nice mask that nobody can see through There’s millions to choose from, any old thing will do Don’t worry- we’re not trying that hard to see what’s true [Short pause] When you get to the ball leave your baggage in the car Nobody wants to take the time to help you unload it That just takes too much work, we’d rather let you be bogus Go ahead, be fake, be a fraud, be a sham Please, be anything but genuine Cuz if you take off your mask well then, the proper thing would be to take off mine A masquerade ball is awkward if some let their true faces shine…. Honestly, when we show our true faces that is real beauty Sure, sometimes there’s some dirt, this life can leave us feeling dirty But better a dirty face than plastic that’s fake…. Anyways *ahem* I apologize I digress Make sure to put on your very best All are expected to be dressed to the nines So we can appropriately judge who can offer us enough to be worth our time Appearance is everything! Our clothes, our faces, Instagrams, Facebooks, and Vines Nobody wants to see the real you- they prefer the you you portray yourself to be online The fuuun you The one who, goes to all the parties and has all the sex, the one with the scandy pictures There’s no law saying that in your pictures online you have to be appropriately dressed Besides, everybody looks at porn these days anyways and that’s what people want to see At least that’s what all the likes and comments online tell me…. People only look at you if you offer what they want you to be… I can’t remember the last time someone actually saw me…. You know what, actually I take back my invitation Don’t go to the masquearade ball! IT is a sham- not you! It’s harder to truly see when all you have are your masks small circle eye-holes to look through Maybe if we took them off we could gain a new clarity See people for who they are rather than our flawed, lazy view of reality Not to mention after a while in a mask it gets harder to breathe There is a freshness in the air when we let the sun kiss our true faces Taking off our masks can be terrifying but it can bring such relief It can even open doors to new places… Forget the masquerade ball, come one come all and take off your masks with me Whatever it is we’re hiding together we can face it…. And finally, truly, see

Dear you, There’s a quote that says: “Art lies. That’s one of the things it does best. And if it does it right it points to some kind of truth every time.” So tell me, what kind of art were you trying to make? Do you consider my broken heart some kind of masterpiece? There was nothing artful about your lies except that they did indeed point me to the truth The truth that you probably don’t care about me The truth of how likely it is that you never did I don’t wanna believe it But it seems that you painted it clearly in every ignored text, every harsh word, every blank expression in the face of my pain Your brush strokes of indifference painted my heart black and blue from the emotional abuse you put me through You took the parts of me I gave you and sculpted me even more laden with baggage than I used to be You made sure to spin me around and around on your wheel of games Sticking me in the kiln of your momentary passion only to take me out to cool too soon Leaving me cracked and broken While I cross states of mind the words said and ones left unspoken take their toll My name one of many on a list showing that I’m another ego boosting token and that you’re out of control We both had a part to sing but we could find no harmony Harming each other My words barbs to you Your silence screaming at me [Pause] Maybe, just maybe it’s not me who is the art here After all, based on the quote it says that ART lies and that’s one of the things it does best You had the audacity to tell me you loved me And maybe just maybe in some way you did or you do But your actions tended to show snapshots of something different The pictures that developed in the darkroom reflected that a lot went down in your dark bedroom Like your respect for me and mine for you and purity that used to be between us two We call ourselves Christians but we could not be bothered To let God get in the way of what we wanted from each other I wanted to see truth in you so badly I cut up my hands digging through the shards of your lies Attempting to solder our jagged attempts at being better into some kind of stained glass friendship Trying to craft beauty out of something that perhaps cannot be mended I would do almost anything for you, like some starved artist begging the lies to show me the truth Like some starved artist hungry for the truth while the lies devour you….and me But stained glass windows don’t need to speak to tell stories, and your silence speaks volumes now doesn’t it darling At the end of the day amidst all the hurt and pain this much is true: I still care about you It might not make sense and you might not care, but I do After all, in reality we’re both masterpieces Sure, we’ve got some chipped paint Some broken parts Our frames may hang a bit crooked Our color schemes might seem off Maybe we don’t see ourselves as gallery worthy Maybe nobody we know would want to display us in their halls I mean, who do you know that would opt to hang a mess up on their walls? But there is beauty in brokenness and sometimes art gets messy After all we were made from dirt- the creator probably didn’t keep his hands clean I want you to see the masterpiece that I see So you stop scribbling over your life with lies to cover up the true art that’s underneath The image of your Creator that somewhere inside runs deep That’s what I wanna see But even amidst the pain and brokenness and shame and lack of openness I still see you beautifully…after all, you are a masterpiece Now if only you could see the art that awakes when you put the lies to sleep You have eyes but sometimes it’s like you’re blind to reality Abstract art is great but how can you stay grounded to create if you don’t believe in gravity? Do you not see the gravity of your depravity that you’re choosing to make your mentality? Death could be the outcome if you cling to this corrupt morality Your choices aren’t a movie you have to play on repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat Take a step towards the ultimate Director, trust me His script is better It doesn’t matter how many girls you can get into your bedsheets Only God can make you whole so let Him take the driver’s seat Please, please, please We are masterpieces We are the Master’s pieces…. Only He can break our chains After all, isn’t it great when art is free? Love, me

What does a microphone look like to you? How about a sword? No? Now you might be thinking Emily, that is clearly a microphone But I see things just a little bit differently You see, THIS is a weapon When used correctly A sword, a 9mm A verbal guillotine slicing into your mind With carefully articulated uncertainties A noose to hang your close mindedness on And alert you to a whole new world of possibilities They can try to take my guns but my freedom of speech is still with me Lest they cut out my tongue, which they can’t do as easily or inconspicuously Words are powerful And wielded correctly can bring life or death [Soothe you or hit you like a bullet in the chest] Truth today is comparable to Taking all the ideas and theories and religions you like Throwing them in a blender and hoping you’re right Because easier to digest a smoothie of lies Than to gulp down the hard truths of life We’re not always going to understand Why things play out the way they do But that doesn’t mean we get to dictate what’s truth It also doesn’t mean we should passively stay silent in the presence of lies How will people know truth if they never see it? If you never hear it how do you believe it? How do you adopt truth if it’s a child you’ve never met? A child abandoned by our society Given pitied passing glances at best The child of truth is CRYING IN THE STREETS And we ignore the child because of fears of offending This also applies to me A gun left unfired, a sword in its sheath Both ineffective like secret beliefs We need to use our words, we need to speak But ladies and gentleman of the jury I’m also not sayin’ just keep your lips flappin’ Cuz words are just words if not backed up by action

Hey I go by the name of eMc Clap three times if you can hear me Clap three times if you can hear me CLAP THREE TIMES IF YOU CAN HEAR ME Do you want to hear a poem? Well do ya? How about I just cut myself open and bleed a little of my heart out to ya? Because isn’t that what you really want to see? A whole lot of truth and vulnerability? Or do I make you uncomfortable with my honesty? It’s okay, I’m sure you’ll turn me into whatever you want me to be. Cuz most of you don’t even know me, not really You see, I’ve got monsters locked inside this closet of a chest They go by the names of pride, fear, insecurity, arrogance, apathy and selfishness I just can’t seem to keep it quiet, that little voice reminding me of how much I suck How much I should feel fine cuz I’m blessed How ugly and awful and stupid I am It’s no wonder I get depressed And I keep hurting people They hop in line from one to the next And instead of dealing with my issues maybe sometimes I’d rather just forget I mean I’m a fallen human being, that’s the point isn’t it? That I’m not perfect so I’ll use that as a crutch Use my words to say I’m sorry while I wind up for another punch to your chest Like where my monsters are locked My verbal gun’s all ready, cleaned and cocked I preach SPEAK LIFE But so many times I’d rather give people a piece of my mind Because there are days where I really love people And I want nothing more than to love them well despite being put through their selfish hell But then those days come when I feel like I just can’t take anymore The weight is too freaking heavy and I’m gonna cave, cuz who’s there to save the girl who’s always wearing the cape? Yeah, some days I wish I could just fly away cuz all of it gets me wanting an escape But I can’t escape myself And who am I supposed to go to for help? Cuz the scariest monster locked inside my heart goes by the name of hope And when it’s terrifying to have that how the heck do you cope? But I’m learning, step by step, slowly Like I’m walking on a tight rope Confession: I don’t know that I’ve ever had great balance Some days I’m drowning in doubt, and shame and fear but hope is real And I’m trying to trust that despite the deep seeded aches and pains that I feel There is hurt in me that runs deeper than my veins But there are things in this life that we just can’t change However there are also things within our control And I don’t wanna let fear have the reigns anymore So I’m gonna white knuckle death grip hold on to the truth that there is a God who delights in me Who fights for me Saw that girl in the cape needing an escape and died for me Sometimes I get tired of wearing my heart on my sleeve So people can freely prick and poke at it as they come and go in and out of my life as they please But how do I reconcile that with claiming to follow a guy who loved to the point of being crucified on a tree? People say: don’t be a doormat! But if it takes walking all over me to get people to a love they couldn’t previously see then so be it I’ll don that dirty tattered cape and try to stay despite wanting to fly away Maybe the pain will be worth it at the end of the day This life is a fight and if your knuckles aren’t bloody then you’re not doing it right We were never meant to live life safe We were never meant to live life safe I need to hear that just as much, if not more than you do Cuz you see, I’m real good at stringing the words together And not always the best at the follow through I’m nowhere near perfect, I’m no better than you, neither is anyone else We’re all some sort of ridiculous mess So how about we all be friends? Acknowledge our pain, worry less about being offended, and start trying harder to help each other mend it All of us have hurt, I know it’s not just me So if you can hear me, don’t clap three times Come say hi, or give me a high five, or let me hear your story It would be an honor, truly, if you were to share even a little of your life with me If you take nothing else away from this poem Please just know you’re not alone We all have monsters locked inside and you don’t have to fight on your own Vulnerability is a risk, people might perceive you how they want you to be But vulnerability in the right context can also help us become free Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done, I want that for you You’re not too much, too awful, too messed up, too anything to love You don’t have to clap, but I hope that you’re hearing me cuz it’s true I’m begging you, fight the good fight, do not accept defeat I’ll be fighting not to give up too, we can battle together ferociously Now that I’ve opened up some of my wounds for ya’ll to see It’s nice to meet you, I go by the name of Emily

We are living in a zombie apocalypse Surrounded by death and we're mostly blind to it We keep searching for substance to fill our holes with but we just ain't findin it Healing does not come from slightly skewed repetition of failed cures This just in-even our best attempts won't work When it comes to our own healing We are failures All of us at our cores But no matter how many times we fail we keep trying to fix ourselves With quick fixes and cheap lies that run smooth over our tongues and dance with us until we die Zombified That's the reality of so many And we sit idly by offering duct tape to hearts that need to be replaced Loudly proclaiming EVERYBODY MAKES MISTAKES But there's no escape We are the walking dead Craving brains, going insane Cuz we refuse to admit Christ is the head We need renewal Something that doesn't come from religion and rules Checklist Christianity is handing a zombie hydrogen peroxide It might bubble on the surface but you're still dead inside It has to be an inward transformation for you to truly be alive And those of us who know this need to speak life Cuz we're surrounded by people drowning in lies I know this message isn't popular and it's far from cool But how can I claim to love people well and never tell the truth? Don't get me wrong- I'm not judging you My love is not dependent on you believing what I do But the church claims we're all parts of a body And I think maybe just maybe God made me a mouthpiece If you know me then you know how much I like to speak But heaven forbid I stand before you and only babble about what is meaningless Without christ we are lifeless This world is broken and we can go our whole lives without knowing what life is So I wanna try and tell you I'm not being self righteous But if this is a zombie apocalypse I can either hide away or try and fight it I wanna live my life as a warrior- not a passive aggressive hider Life is short and the devil is a good liar But life with Christ is about more than insurance from hell fire The double tap is rule #2 So lemme hit you with a lil more truth God loves you Rule #3 is beware of bathrooms The truth of God's love doesn't spare you from all the crap But it brings the dead to life in this Zombieland We can't revive ourselves But Jesus provided the cure the day he stretched out his hands Let himself be put to death by sinful man Because the fathers thoughts of you are as countless as the grains of sand I know it's crazy and hard to understand But I'm begging you friends Wake up. Wake up. Wake...up! WAKE UP! You should feel alarmed Zombies are unnatural And so are we when we're not in relationship with the Lord Maybe you've heard this a million times Maybe you never have before But I'm begging you Hear me out once more God loves us! We need Him! We are all longing for him at our cores If I'm wrong tell me Tell me you've never felt like something is missing Like something is off Tell me you've never felt like we were made for something more We get so distracted by the noise and insane cravings That we mindlessly wander into our own graves But that stops today I wanna see us die to ourselves and come alive I'm sorry if this poem hurts you But I'd rather cut you with the truth than comfort you with lies And I refuse to stand by and day after day watch you die How does that equal loving people well? As long as God provides me with a voice Let me use my vocal cords to help bind up the gates of hell Please, wake up, come alive Please know I love you and so does Jesus which is why he was crucified Through his death let us rise Becoming an army of warriors who refuse to passively sit by But who actively, intentionally with all our might Love well, live fully, and speak life!

Hey there So I uuh do this thing called spoken word, or poetry, or whatever And um, I’ve run into this problem that might not be a big deal to some But really it should be addressed There has been silence in the poetry realm for far too long You see we as poets are special stewards of words And we’ve left out a word that should cause us concern We as poets are rhyme masters Reality blasters Word based mental imagery crafters Marrying words like pastors Match makers of words eHarmony ain’t got nothing on me when I’m creating a lyrical symphony My rhyme game’s absurd But you see, One word has been left alone, forgotten and lonely Orange Searching for his soul mate left with no one to hold him Sure, he’s tried blind dates Porridge, foreign, swordfish, chorus Even got engaged to door-hinge But nothing was quite right And having a near perfect match may keep you warm-ish at night But it’s not the same as blissful, true, rhyme that flows off your tongue like a sugar-plum soul mate love Orange did not want to settle Poets kept trying to mettle and set him up with words that only reminded him that he was truly alone Forever alone In each and every poem Heart groanin While poets keep dronin On and on drowning him in his misery, lyrically Leaving him to waste away crushing his positivity Unrealistically, horrifically exercising stupidity linguistically Treating orange like he has some inability to gain poetic tranquility But orange is not alone, not truly, and not forever There are others who have banded together Prepared to fight originality oppressors It wasn’t a soul mate but kindred souls Left without perfect rhymes, but breaking free from the mold Silver, month, purple, opus, dangerous, marathon The list goes on and on and on This band of misfit words found each other and ended their search Maybe they didn’t need a perfect rhyme to be happy Who says you need romance for your life to not be crappy? Friendship helped equip them to face life’s hardships rather than give up and quit We’re meant to do life together, even with those who are different Love is not simple, it is not always romantic, and it doesn’t always rhyme Sometimes it comes from the most unexpected places and blows our minds Orange now had others with whom to share this life This helped with the loneliness, difficulties and strife Orange was not alone, especially not forever Now he had friends and they would do life together Orange’s tale is one that applies to more than just him Many people feel alone, misunderstood, judged And think life just looks grim But better to stand out then be a clone in a crowd It’s okay to make a statement, whether whispered or loud We won’t always be understood but that’s okay Feel free to smile, laugh, have fun and play Being misunderstood is not the end of the world, do not dismay And someday, maybe someone will love you for all the ways you and the crowd are not the same If you’re feeling alone on this day Take a moment, look around you- maybe you’ll see love in exciting, unexpected, new ways Don’t forget to love yourself and enjoy your unfolding story Having a perfect rhyme at this time may not be all it’s cracked up to be Just ask orange, in his unique, citrusy, one of a kind glory