Category: Uncategorized

the shame I put on myself

is often the hardest to shake

I am too much

too little

wrong where I should be right

one way when I should be another

abnormal

defective

weak

just not enough

in your absence

the affirmation of your arms

slipped away

and I don’t know how to love myself

accept myself

champion myself

nothing anyone ever does

will be enough

if I don’t see myself through the gaze

of a passionate God

then how will I see myself

as good enough for you

how will I ever laugh

cry

run

stay

choose

break

love you in your absence

look myself in the eyes

and say, I am worth it

I am enough

I am just right

just the way I was made

no need to feel ashamed

of a brokenhearted smile

little gray cat

comes, wraps her lithe

soft body around my back

arches her back, steps through

the arches of my legs

doesn’t mind I’m crying.

I pet her and she pushes against

me like crazy

starved for affection

people never knew she needed.

her purr is gone

she’s skittish of the world

startling at the truck rolling by

running away

stalking back

but feels safe with me

rolling over on her back

claws clinging to my jeans.

it’s okay, I tell her

I lost my purr too

I’m sure it will come back.

she bites me once

I jerk back hard, but

return my hand

I know what it’s like to not

want to be touched even as

you’re starving for it

finding it hard to believe

you’re safe

even when you are,

thumb soothing

the velvet fur

above her nose.

she settles down and licks herself

at my feet

and we sit and watch

the leaves curling bright

on the sidewalk together

the cat and me.

then, as I say I have to go

she jumps up on my lap

curls beneath my arm

a soft meow

as if to say

stay.

she sits and flicks her tail

white socks and a white tie

green eyes

watching me go.

so much pain bound up in this body

I need to release it

set this spirit free

surround me with who You are

tell me who I am, remind me

I need to know

tell me how precious I am to You.

my shoulders curve around an empty cup

a caving chest

fill me.

 

this is for you, sitting in the dark

sing out the tension

scream it out

let your bones bend until they feel

they might break

scream it out

call on the name of your God

scream his name

claim his help

scream, let it rip through your center until you

unravel

let the darkness disintegrate in the air

let him in

let him protect you

let him be your warrior, fight for you

so you don’t have to

it’s already won

he’s already gone out

it’s already done.

 

he goes where you go

he’s bringing a new thing

you will see his goodness in the land of the living.

he calls your name

he calls your name

all the love in the world in your name

he’ll never drop you when you’re leaning

when you’re wondering if he’s there.

 

hush, quiet, listen here–

he loves you he loves you he

loves you.

the lights go off

leaving only shifting purple glow

and I could be anyone

swaying in the half-dark

floor vibrating through bare feet

drumbeat ricocheting in my stomach

the thump of bass in my chest

riffs plowing through my center

music taking over the whole room until

the very air is thrumming sound

no difference between oxygen and melody.

something inside me trying to wake up

run crazy, ride life like a

wild, wild mustang to unknown destination.

the space next to me making me wish I could

entwine my fingers with yours

bury my head in your neck as you

wrap your arms around me warm

and I hold tight.

lost and found.

scream and melody.

lost and found.

I am and I resound.

my breath

catches

in my lungs when I see

Orion in the heavens

clear and bright under

a full crescent moon

in the gentle air of fall’s

early morning

present for the first time

in months.

I remember how his shout

felt like a gift

how I believed he was leaping

for joy

how I counted my friends in the

gleaming stars of his belt

and now can only think of you

my love my dear

my only star

and I know one day I’ll tattoo

the constellation on my skin

friends, family, lover

faith hope love and the

greatest of these…

a trio of ink stars that would never

leave me

as if that truth is something I could

ever lose

as if my memories could fade like

the stars

in the morning.

I am a cacophony of  voices

crying out.

 

a grey-purple river laps wildly at slanted smooth

wooden steps.

 

mosquitoes snap and crickets

howl.

 

the water is high and cold but not

cold enough to numb.

 

I hide in the warmth of long sleeves and hood

fleece worn smooth into safety.

 

arms wrap around myself I am

smaller than I used to be.

 

dark claims its prize from the day

snide at its inevitable victory

won from a sky on fire.

 

splash, rush, wither

 

I miss you I miss you I

miss you.

who knew sitting up was so hard

pushing against the weight of the moon and its oceans on my back

who knew my limbs could feel like

faded broken elephant’s tusks, full of water, unliftable

who knew the barest memory of your thumb on my skin

a velvet flutter of moth’s wings

could scoop out my heart, leave me with nothing but ache

and banish me to my bed until the pain fades

retreating behind its wall, leaving nothingness in its wake

and a whispered longing for your hands in my hair

oh, the irony, that even

loneliness brings people together

the darkness that divides

us from ourselves and the

treasures of our lives

meld

and our hearts’ broken pumping

bleeds into one another.

I listen to your cry, friend, brother

and mine calls out, rises in return

seen, known, kin

wanderer, exiles on this earth, all.

I am less lonely in my loneliness

knowing another is too

and we are lonely together

and it is easier because of it.

I hang on your song’s every word

and when my own lips find the mike

to tremblingly sing my own

something like bravery ignites in my bones

believing in the worth of my own story

knowing you are listening.

the river is liquid purple tonight

water purling over rocks

all play and frothy plumes

full of itself, rejoicing in its own existence

high, so high

and still the kayakers play

surfing the tumble around logs stranded

under a fading sky of blushing orange and gold

clouds of cotton pulled thin

dyed quiet pink and deep lavender.

I am cradled by a seat of cool stone

mosquitoes nibbling at my feet

air chilling, slipping toward

fall’s subtle surrender

heart expanded with wonder

and heavy with longing.

thinking of the could-have-beens

the still-I-wishes

other versions of this moment

where you and I stand at the bank

and watch the dying sun

the river laughing up at its creator

in wild rippling beauty fading toward

the navy robes of night.

of all the things my hands have held

the best by far is you

sings the headphone melody in my ears

backed by the chanting worship of crickets

ringing, ringing, soft and persistent

and the words are true.

just a tiny, tiny pill

blue, pale blue

a crease splitting it

down the middle.

I tell myself it’s not a

big deal

as tiny of a deal as this

ghost weight on my palm.

half my face in the mirror

one eye looking back at me

split in two

trying to reconcile

two truths

both as much me

as me can be.

I tell myself a tiny pill won’t

change who I am

change what I believe

change whom I love

I’m just too stubborn.

but in order to

have a life

you’ve got to want

things to fill it

you’ve got to want to want

you’ve got to have the energy

to go after them.

I’ve started wanting to want

I can’t stop now.

swallow.

pale blue nothing

slipping down my throat

like it’s not even there.

and I tell myself

I can always go back

undo this moment

pretend there was never any

blue, pale blue nothing

in my palm

and figure out some other way

to want.