Category: Uncategorized

words prayed over and over

fondled each night, often more

like smooth beads on a string.

strength, truth, peace

does saying them over and over

make them more powerful?

make you closer? happier?

safety, all kinds, all places

or does God pay more attention

when said fewer, syllables treasured

like fresh pearls, few and gleaming?

knowledge, of yourself and truth

He tells us to ask, and ask again

so must not get tired of hearing

my desperate liturgy.

opportunities to seek, courage to take them

I’m sure He’d remember, even if my words

slowed or ceased

although I know they won’t.

hope that no paths end, that nothing is impossible

my heart demands, aching

longing, fearing, hoping

that the silent words continue.

certainty that I am still here, that God loves you

even when my tired soul must

shorten its petition to the lullaby

my childhood knew so well:

may the Lord bless you and keep you…

liquid glass mirror lapping at the shore

burbled put-tut of blades in the water

rotting white carp gutted

splayed open on the sand

insect crescendo symphony of overcast green

moist air hushing in cooling wind

the cries of summer coming to a close

inside my body it is too quiet

I can’t feel the thumping of my own heart

sitting in the river won’t it

wash my cares away

sunny summer days are gonna

slowly fade away

they’re kissing by the car and he

turns and drives away

her tears fall and I remember

your arms slipping away

clouds are comin’ and I can only

watch them come my way

my eyes scan the shelves

searching, searching

bottles, chewables, capsules, drinkables

I don’t like the way my hand feels

grasping, tense

reaching for something, anything

now, now

I want it right now

to help me sleep at night

to quiet the spinning in my mind

to let my throat breathe right

to close my eyes against the storm

that’s brewing, brewing

raindrops breaking on my skin–

what is this feeling, that I do not like?

the word comes at once, summoned

desperation

and I draw back

curl my empty fingers tight

when I met him I knew what I didn’t want–

friends.

I met him working a lock in, and he was the one who asked

if I–the girl with headphones sitting alone on a rock

in a sea of rocks–was okay.

I wasn’t.

I didn’t want friends. but when he asked to climb

I said yes.

he introduced me to his girlfriend–red hair, feisty smile

warm words–and I liked her.

I still didn’t want friends.

I dodged hugs until I couldn’t dodge them anymore.

I hid my tears until I couldn’t anymore.

I buried my past until the words wouldn’t hide anymore.

I closed my heart until it couldn’t keep them out anymore.

now, I have two friends.

he likes death metal. I like acoustic.

she likes dresses. I hardly wear shoes.

they can both curse a blue streak. I’m a silent rager.

they find home in each other. I’m still aching.

they don’t believe in God. I do. and I think they should too.

I’m still scared

to have friends.

but when we’re together we all

laugh a lot

sing a lot

play a lot

create a lot

speak a lot

be a lot.

a dysfunctional family, we three, to be sure

but a family, yes indeed.

we’ve got our dark days.

but if I find the courage to reach out a hand

I know it will find someone.

I guess friends are good for something.

now here we are–he’s going to school

and I don’t want to say

goodbye.

again, I am afraid

to have friends.

perhaps because last time I said goodbye

it turned out to be a lot worse than I thought

it was going to be.

but when I remind myself to listen, I hear

their plans for the future, I hear

myself in them.

South Africa, New Zealand.

movies to watch, rocks to climb.

houses to live in.

they’re not leaving me behind.

and I want to say–I’m only ever close to happy

when I’m with you two.

but I don’t.

instead I tell them I’m thankful.

instead I tell myself–

it’s okay to have friends.

the last time I felt beautiful

was when you saw me.

alone, the months tick by, and with them

the accusations.

not

skinny enough

smooth enough

strong enough

light enough

not. enough.

too pale,

too tan?

it doesn’t matter

no one’s looking.

still the eyes in the mirror

judge

wondering,

what is enough?

sadness doesn’t look good on you,

they say.

can’t do anything about that.

but sometimes I dare

to close my eyes,

remember the words,

Just you.

and for a smidgen

of a moment

my heart

 

stops

 

wondering.

missing you is a little

like missing the girl

I used to be, but of course

it isn’t–

I like you way better

than her, and she’d agree.

waiting for you to come home

is like waiting for the wave

I know will wreck me

grind me into the sand

leave me airless, blind, and shaking

waiting for the moment I turn and see you

the shimmering clear blue-green

cresting in a perfect wet curve

the cool kiss of gentle foam

the hope that tumbles in my heart

as I am slapped to ocean floor

fear, fear, fear

and yet hope commands again, weary–

rise

staying silent

keeping all the words

b

o

t

t

l

e

d

inside

corked tight

was supposed to keep

the hurt away–

from you, and everyone else.

me–I’m a bit

of a hopeless case,

whatever.

but the blank page, empty screen

was supposed to keep everything

contained

help me get good

at ignoring.

but perhaps that’s not

the most honest

truth–

I felt my words were worthless.

and my words are an extension of me.

and then I felt my words

were too powerful–

not powerful enough to convince, explain, reveal–

but powerful enough to hurt whom I love

most.

in the end–

I.

am just.

afraid.

afraid I am not enough.

afraid I am too much.

afraid you won’t read this.

afraid you’ll do nothing.

afraid I mean nothing.

and so I held my breath.

but in the end, I fear–

I want to breathe.

and so I must speak my existence into the world

even if you do not affirm it.

yes, it is for you I write–

but it is also

for me.

blog taking another hiatus.