ACCORDING TO ME, I AM ALIVE

Yes, I am sick.
True, I am ill.
That does not mean I am afflicted.
God does not hate me.
The devil does not have his claws dug into
   me.
I am not evil.
I am not condemned for what I am.
That is not for you to say.
My illnesses are not who I am.
And you know not who I am.
For you are a blind fool.
I pity you.
For being so arrogant in your ignorance.
You know nothing about me.
How can you say what is right for me?
How can you tell me how to think?
How can you tell me how to be?
How can you tell me who I should be?
You cannot even help yourself.
So, how can you possibly bother with me?
Live and let live.
Do not look at me.
You cannot see me.
Still you presume to judge me.
All that you say that I am.
Oh, how I pity you.
And your feeble way of thinking.
Do not look down upon me.
I am not below you.
I am no different than you.
I am alive.
I have feelings.
I have emotions.
I have wants.
I have needs.
But, I have lived a different life than you.
I do have different experiences.
I have gone through different trials.
I am not you.
Can you not see that you are not me?
I walk my own path.
I have my own reality.
Just as you walk your own path.
Just as you have your own reality.
You cannot say anything to the contrary.
As I cannot you.
You can leave now.
I do not need your negativity in my life.
Nor do I want any.
I will not allow any.
Keep all your negativity to yourself.
You will not drag me down with you.
I will not follow you down into your
   darkness.
That is for you and you alone.
I have my own.
It is for me and me alone.
I will walk far away from here, from you.
This is where I separate.
I will burn away where you have touched
   me.
I will not ingest your disease.
I will not allow you any more room in my
   mind.
I will not allow you take any more from
   me.
I will live.
I will continue to live.
Just as long as there is no you.
You are dead to me.
Soon I will forget about you.
This is your end and my beginning.
My life starts now.
Everyday will be brand new.
With no you.
I can now breathe in deep my own life.
I am free.
And free means I can be me.
That is who I will be from now on.
Oh, does it not feel so good!
What a wonder it is to be alive.
Alive according to me.
Indeed, it is a wonder, to me.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

MIRROR, MIRROR, ON THE WALL

You stare into the mirror.
You see something ugly staring back at you.
You see the physical scars.
They just remind you of the inflicted
  harms.
The wounds that still haunt you.
You see the fear that resides in your
   heart.
Your cracked and crumbling heart.
The tears begin to well up in your eyes
   again.
You close your eyes tight.
You do not want to face the pain that
   still wounds you.
It's just not going away.
It is just as intense as ever.
Tearing your soul to shreds.
With a tightly clenched fist you smash the
   mirror.
Your view now refracted.
But that ugly non-person is still there.
You scream, but they just come out silent.
The hurt now turns to rage.
Rage is fueled by hate.
And increases your suffering.
It's just not fair, you think to yourself.
You did not ask for any of this.
"Then why is all this happening?" You think
   aloud.
Only silence follows.
You can still see the old tear stains.
You are filled with shame.
You just do not understand.
You wonder if you even matter.
What is the point of your existence.
"Why?" Is all you can say.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

GOD? IT'S ME AGAIN...HELP?!

Alright, enough already! I decide.
"Everyone out, now!" I shout.
But the noise remains.
So I shout again, "What about 'everyone
   out now', do you not understand?"
I'm quite angry now.
Now the noise has grown louder.
I loose my temper.
I march in, fists clenched so tight I could
   make diamonds.
Still the noise grows louder.
I grow hotter with rage.
"EVERYONE STOP! SHUT UP! AND GET
   OUT, NOW!!!" I scream.
I've had quite enough.
Even a long time ago.
What do I need to do to have peace and
   quiet?
How do I make the noise just, STOP?
I'd say it was driving me mad, but I arrived
   there a long while ago.
Now I am trying to hide.
But everyone just comes and finds me.
Making all the more noise.
The volume so loud, I am starting to crack.
Now I begin to crumble.
I cannot take this any more.
Not that I ever could.
I'm about to explode.
Or is it implode?
I'd rip my mind out if only I could.
"Anyone want a slightly used mind?"
"maybe not, it doesn't work right anyway."
But I am ready to come right out of my
   skin.
Climb right out of this breaking apart
   shell.
I am about ready to give up.
The noise has reached its' crescendo.
But I am still shaking.
I'm feeling the sonic boom in my chest.
Or is it just a hyperactive heart beating.
Faster and faster, harder and harder.
Almost coming right out of my chest.
Enough is enough.
And enough is all I can take.
On my own there is nothing i feel I can do.
"God? It's me again...Help?!"

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

YOU CAME FOR ME

A life lived alone is mine.
Hidden within time.
In an empty room.
In an empty house.
I was estranged.
Even from myself.
I was unknown.
Forgotten and forsaken.
I sank deep within myself.
What I did not know is that I was known.
You knew me.
You saw me.
You caught all my tears.
You wiped my eyes dry.
You soothed me in my distress.
You comforted me in my sorrow.
Giving me hope for freedom from my
   anguish.
You found me deep within where I had
   hidden.
You pulled me out.
You set me upon my feet once again.
Your sweet voice whispered to my soul.
You became the beating of my heart.
Breathing life back into me.
Alone I am no more.
You rescued me from the hell I had
   created for myself.
You lifted me from my grave.
Now I am free.
You came for me.
You came to where I was.
Picked me up and took me away.
I was brought out of myself.
Out of darkness and despair.
Into the light of eternal hope.
A fire ignited in me.
Melting me.
I inhale You deep.
Your touch is upon me.
Love has been poured out all over me.
I bask in its' brilliance.
Its' warmth reminds me I am alive.
I lay down my loneliness.
I lay down my burdens.
Although weary, I can rest.
Assurance I know.
I can lay down in Your presence.
I will not fear.
Deafening silence gives way to deep
   peace.
You are my salvation.
You are my redemption.
I am alive in You.
And You in me.
I am Yours.
Yours and Yours alone.
You came for me.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

JUST...STOP!

These are my tears.
This is my pain.
Mine!
You will never understand.
You cannot see inside of me.
I warn you, stay away!
Do not even try to go down this road.
It is for me to take.
Me alone.
I am not asking for your help.
I am not asking for your opinion.
So just stop.
Stop!
I have enough to deal with.
I am all I can handle.
So just stay away.
This is my choice.
My decision.
My life.
Broken as I am.
Lost as I am.
Such as I am.
It's for me to live.
I will do my best to live it the best I know
   how.
Do not even think you are any help at all.
You are a tripping stone.
A bear trap clenched shut on my leg.
Now, let go!
I am not you.
You are not me.
Your words are just babble to my ears.
Just shut up!
Now!
Yeah, I'm angry.
It's my right.
I have plenty to be angry about.
You just make it worse.
I have nothing more to say.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

ENOUGH

It's never enough.
Everything keeps falling in on me.
My efforts always come to naught.
Down on my knees.
All colour bleeds from my skin.
Pitch black pools are my eyes.
Filling my lungs.
Feels as though I am breathing concrete.
I am drowning within myself.
I will bury me in an unmarked grave.
I feel the fire dying.
I see the embers growing cold.
All my memories are scorched.
They are biting.
They are cutting.
I open my mouth to swallow myself.
I choke it all down.
As I continue to crumble.
It's never enough.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

STILL ALIVE (TESTIMONY I)

Here I am.
I am still alive.
Tried as I did.
Not to be.
Hate and rage consumed me.
Anger lashed out.
Cutting off everyone.
Leaving me isolated.
Just as I wanted it.
So I thought.
The silence was killing me.
It is a miracle that I even survived.
And it was not of my own doing.
God had other plans for me.
He was the one who reached down and
   picked me up.
There just was no life left in me.
Despair had overcome me.
Now, here I am.
I am still alive.
Even after all the fire.
Even after all the rain.
The pain was worth it.
For God to bring me to where I am.
I had made it through.
I had survived.
Now I live.
Now I thrive.
Thank You God.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

BROKEN DOWN CAR

Driving down the road.
Trying to see through a muddied window.
Swerving from side to side.
Man, what a bumpy ride.
The curves are so sharp.
I'm coughing on all the dust.
My eyes are tearing.
I try to pull over.
But somehow I've ended up in the ditch.
And I am halfway between nowhere and
   nowhere.
Frustrated, I kick at the dirt.
I wipe the sweat from my brow.
Take a deep breath, and off I go.
On my own two feet.
Not knowing where I am going.
But that's usually the case with me.
I'm so hungry and thirsty.
As I look up and see the sun starting to go
   down.
I begin to shiver.
As the the sky becomes blanketed by the
   night.
I look at the stars.
Why do I never see a shooting star?
Now it's raining, "Oh, of course it is."
   I grumble to myself.
With just a t-shirt and jeans I quickly
   feel the cold in my bones.
The water pours down my naked head.
I spit it out of my mouth.
I am not happy with these circumstances.
Where is God, I wonder.
As I continue to wander.
Everything is silent except for the falling
   of the rain drops.
I look up at the sky.
"God, are You there?" I whisper.
"If You could lend me a hand, I'd appreciate
   it."
My head drops low.
Now tears are mixing with the rain.
I used to have hope, faith and love.
I used to be happy.
But life beat me to a pulp.
I took all my lumps and never complained.
I was always told i had to be a man.
And men suck it all up.
I tried to swallow it all.
But I always choked on it.
It always made me sick.
I never did understand what it all was
   for.
I just knew I had to take it all.
I tried, I really tried.
I remember it all now.
As the tears and the rain continue to
   pour down my face.
I shiver violently on the outside and on the
   inside.
Then the rain ceased.
The tears continued to flow.
How could I have been so blind?
To let life get away from me.
But I was just not strong enough.
To keep it all under control.
I was a boy then, I am a boy now.
The boy now hides inside this poor excuse
   for a man.
Just look at me.
A grown man crying like a little baby.
And it makes me so angry.
Why does it have to be this way for me?
I didn't choose any of this.
But here I am.
With a broken down car.
And a broken heart.
The car I can leave behind, but I am stuck
   the heart.
The car doesn't hurt, but the heart sure
   does.
I've grown tired.
So I have to stop and rest awhile.
I drop to the ground with a thump.
Here I am sitting in the mud.
Somehow I am used to it.
For it is how I feel most of the time.
Again I look up at the sky, "God where are
   You?"
I quietly mutter to myself.
"God are You even there?
'Cause I just hurt so much."
All I know right now is that I have grown
   so weary.
I ache in every corner.
There is mindache, heartache, and soulache.
I'm close to my end.
Standing on the edge, six feet doesn't seem
   so far down.
This life of mine is nothing, does that mean
   I am nothing as well?
"God, if You're there, please come close.
See the marred heart on my sleeve.
Please take it, can You make it over
   again?"
Oh, what's the use? I think to myself.
I raise my head to the sky once more.
Trying to see if anything is there.
Looking through my eyes is like looking
   through a broken window.
Then I realize, I keep looking up.
"I keep looking up!" I exclaim.
I must still have a small measure of hope
   left.
And it was inside of me all the time.
How could I be so blind?
It was there all the time!
I wonder what else is there.
What else is there for me to find.
Then the sun's rays start to peek over
   the horizon.
The night leaves to go elsewhere.
A brand new day has begun.
I pick myself up.
Off I go, carrying on.
Pressing forward.
With a renewed sense of purpose.
No longer looking behind, or even ahead.
I am now looking within.
I think I will find God there.
Even though believing is the hardest part.
I find that I can believe.
"Oh God, there You are."
You were here all the time.
I just refused to see.
But now I see.
I know I am no longer alone, I never was.
Even though I am still broken, cracked,
   and crumbling.
Slowly I am healing.
The cracks are disappearing one by one.
I believe.
And I know it.
I believe.
Nothing is going to stop me, not even me.
My gaze is fixed squarely on the horizon.
Just like that old car.
I was never beyond repair.
I am now looking through a clear window.
Even though the road is narrow.
It's all easy going from here on.
I may be in the middle of nowhere
   but I am somewhere.
Right where I'm supposed to be.
All roads lead to a destination.
That's where I have myself aimed.
And I am on my way........home.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

LINES ON MY ARMS

I have drawn lines on my arms.
The scars that tell a silent story.
Of indescribable pain and anguish.
Sorrow, and hopelessness.
And a story of salvation.
All that I have gone through has brought
   me here.
It has prepared me for where I now am.
Given me the sight to see my strength.
I once believed none-existent.
Now proven wrong.
I once believed a man could not change.
Much less myself.
Again a still, small voice whispered to me.
Convincing me to arise and continue on.
No matter the hurt I feel from all my
   harms.
From somewhere deep within.
Came the courage and the will to pick
   myself up and carry on.
And much has come to avail.
Enabling me.
When I now look at those scars on my
   arms I see where I once was.
I see where I now am.
From death to life.
For I was once dead.
Now brought to life.
Not of my own accord.
But the Spirit that resides in me.
I pray that I never follow those lines back
   to where I was.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

THIS MEANS WAR!

Everyone seems to be against me.
I am all alone in this world.
Cold and afraid.
I am blind.
I see only the dark.
And it is suffocating me.
I want out.
But my will is failing me.
Down on my knees screaming.
I punch the sky.
Anger in my eyes.
Anger in my heart.
I just do not understand.
What is going on?
What is going on with me?
Why is everyone telling me one thing?
Why is everyone telling me another thing?
I am mad at the world.
I do not care if it drives me mad.
This means war!

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY