again

whispers, lights out. the nightmare begins. these lies that pound in my ears are everything. sunset turns to gray to black to empty. I fall a leaf spinning aimlessly and yet these ragged fingertips brush against grace all the way down.

emblem

I’ve heard them all, the names, the numbers, sterile classifications that compose my identity; that tell me who I am. never enough, and always too much; you don’t, you can’t, you shouldn’t have. But this identity, of  silk and sackcloth, dust and ashes, and the sorrow of a thousand years: perhaps again, we’ve all been … More emblem

thunderstorm

water and thunder and fierce joy write patterns in the sky, and the sound of a ferocious love rends the earth around me in a terrifying explosion. I am lost, irrevocably lost, and yet- in chaos, found, too, where the pastures are green and the shepherd stretches out his arms upon a tree. an explosion … More thunderstorm

Wanderlust

Oh sweet wanderer, breathless with wonder in new corners and old castles and dusty bookshelves, take me with you when you go. You and I, we were never made to have a home. We were made to wander, to fall apart and fall together, to reach and never hold, to seek and never find. Oh … More Wanderlust