A l~u~l~l~a~b~y
   or a tired sigh

            a chuckle

                      a laugh

                 a      dam        burst        open

      A SHOUT
             a cry
(a secret unopened)


                     Soft prayers and sleepy groans
             or stand-up hairs from guttural moans

But my favorite is the whisper
(through the dark
and in the night)
it's the one that
shouts through tears
"it will be alright"

But my favorite is the whisper
(in the soft gold
morning sun)
it's the one that
wakes my heart and
pulls my strings undone.

But my favorite is the whisper
(in the race
of passing time)

it's the one that
shouts from mountains

            you,
         my dear,
         *are mine.

At 3:00am I lay awake
wondering what is this
weird smell???
burned chocolate chip
cookie I would call it
but surely that's not it...
Is it the weird mingling of us?

A dream woke me
(I think - it could also be
the medicine that makes
me into someone you like
again)

Oh,
But the dream
was about spit up.
I think because I'm
so worried about him
and also because it's
probably the thing I see
most in a day

At 5:00am I finally rise
from the warmth of our
body heat burrito and
on my way to the coffee ***
I see that your crockpot
concoction is burned
(hence, the smell)

And I just wish

that someone cared

"Protector of clarity"
In the German language
a name which combines
the two people who already
love him best.
An unspoken wish for him
to defend truth, pursue honor,
and live in integrity.
The concern is that in his pursuit
of these things, we will have caused
him to miss out on the lightness.

"Yahweh has given him laughter"*
In the Hebrew tongue,
a name which combines a person
set aside and his father, set aside
specially for me.
An unspoken desire for ease,
joy, and endless laughter to come
without struggle.
The worry is that with this lightness
will come an absence of the
struggles that make laughter
so enjoyable.

To throw someone a rope
inscribed with the words
time heals all wounds
is the cruelest of jokes.

The words wrap around us
like a time glass noose
strangling the chance of healing
as it pushes complacency
into our throats the same as
misplaced sentiments of sorrow
lodge under ours tears where
they cannot escape.

No.
Time most certainly does not
heal all wounds.

On the contrary,
time is the biggest advocate
of learning to live
with the pain.

Papers.* So many pages, fluttered away and crinkled to nothing in my hurried attempt at organization. Words. The perfect excuse, or was it an explanation? Inches. Of progress, of circumference, of motivation.

Boyfriends. Because confidence isn't my strong suit, never mind my reputation. Jobs. Because compromise is my weak spot, regardless of my education.

Myself. Because pleasing him was my preoccupation.

If pain
is relative,
then I am drowning
in the same rain
that blooms you.

If suffering
is temporary,
then my clock has
stalled out
from ticking.

If understanding
is mutual,
then my own efforts
have so far outrun
your own
that
relatively,
temporarily
speaking. . .

I stand alone.

It's a sad day every year
when Mothers' Day arrives
and I know I have to call you
when we both would rather die
than spend five minutes talking
and mhmm-ing and remarking
about the weather and your boys
and the home I don't belong in.

your words were calm last night

so much so that it surprised me

you gently explained that the threat i perceived
was merely an effort to hug and to hold
because you could see the fear in my eyes

you watched my body start to shake and
you saw my mind flash back to before
and leave you standing there alone
while i was grabbed back into another night
a different fight

you rushed to me to hold me
not to hurt me

but the difference blurs in my eyes
and my mind can't seem to sort out
that night from the ones that came before

my eyes couldn't find yours
and my heart wouldn't slow

you did the right thing
but my past
betrayed me in a way that
betrayed you

and
for that
i am sorry

Forward steps are measured in inches-
Every foot an insurmountable goal.
You drag yourself along
Every effort bringing new pain.

A backward step is a mile.
And it doesn't even hurt. Actually,
It's like a hit during rehab
And it feels just right.

But then you breathe it back out.
Too late - the buzz in your veins.
You know you shouldn't have...
But it feels. so. good.

Your vision clears
You hate yourself.
Your bruises haven't healed
from last time
And
Here you are.

Starting over.
      Inch
             by
                 *inch.

There's something that just
takes your breath
when someone else's words
so closely echo
the sentiments
of your own heart.

Two poets connected through
black and white words
all because my mind
can read your soul's words
in my own heart's voice.

All because your soul
writes the language
that my heart
has so carefully learned.

All because two people
wrote in love.

they're warmer,
slower somehow,
these
tears of grief

they warm my eyes
like i'm
filling a bath
and sinking down
in too low
to breathe
but not quite
so low to drown

they're warmer
sure
but softer?
not quite.

they ***** down
slowly at first
and then
they chase each
other about
halfway down
because
it seems they're
in a hurry
to leave behind
the ache they
bring
the sting
they
sting

they pool out
they run down
and they leave
me behind
dried out
and empty
with no chance
to escape
into the air
and change
into something
new
the same way
that they
do

If Christ learned obedience
through the things which
he suffered

Then I will choose obedience
because
I suffer
far less than He did.

as foreign to me as
the ocean is deep
(i stay at the shore)

as strange to me as
black coffee
(too bitter for an
already bitter soul)

as enticing to me as
a sunrise
(new
  bright
    bold
      exposing)

as terrifying as
a fluttering moth
(and just as
irrational?)

a concept so strange
to a twisty sad heart
that you may as well
skip me
and enjoy
my part.

I chose to be porcelain.
   (It's pretty.)
People hold you up to look all around.
   (Oh! How pretty!)
You don't get to choose it but
your design will be stunning.
Good enough to pull their eyes
from the inside your craftsman forgot.
Someone else's half-finished thoughts
marking you forever.

I chose him, too.
   (You're pretty.)
Entranced, lost in my designs,
he poured in me a rich, sweet cream.
The richest half and half
pretending to make me whole.

I thought I knew forgiveness
   but then I saw it through your eyes
      the gentleness there when you see me mess up
      the patience in your smile when I'm confused...
You watch me explore, get lost, see it all.
I love that you don't catch me when I fall.

When your voice drops down low
   like the heat before a storm
      your words still lift me, embrace, encourage-
      I see your secret smile when I pull myself up.
It's in your voice as it crescendos back up
   like the crinkles in the corners of your eyes.

You let me walk, run, fly, see, grow tall...
*I love that you don't catch me when I fall

Can you imagine
spending three days
clothed in
bright white light
and a shapeless gown
cut off and
totally isolated
from everything

in a frantic
desperate
aching effort
to be well again

and then

you unravel her

because the escape
wasn't real
and the moment
she lands back
onto the cold earth
she ran from

there it is

waiting for her

worse than ever.

Just an update and a HELLO, it's been a while :)

I started medical school in July, so that's been insane.

And best of all...

BABY BOY HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!

Silas was born on Friday, August 11. He was a big ole 8lb 10z baby and he is absolutely perfect in every way.

My writing has temporarily stopped, but the juices are still pumping in the noggin'. Hoping to find some balance and routine and be back with you all soon.

Sure am missing your beautiful words!!!!

Xoxo,
Abby

Picture it:
a frenzied,
perhaps slightly insane,
blur of a woman
organizing blankets
by their color
and folding socks
so tiny that they
end up looking
like cherry tomatoes.

Picture it:
mint green walls
covered in lambs
and handfulls of
un-filled picture
frames (plus a
hidden smudge
and nail, because
I'm no good with
a hammer).

Picture it:
a belly so big
and beautiful
it takes up more
space technically
than it does
physically because
it outshines
itself with vibrant
life and punches
and rolls.

Picture it.

Oh.
Just picture it.

A path once used
Beaten and abused-
Come travel with us
Down this path of trust.
Every step's a milestone but
Failure comes when you're alone.
Going, going, going, gone
Home disappears with the dawn.
Imagine a world you can make your own!
Just drop the seed and see what's sown!
Keep on going, don't let go-
Live, love, laugh - never say no.
Meet me in the middle, we'll get there fast
Never try to rush, though, let everything last.
Open your eyes, broaden your mind;
Prepare yourself, don't get left behind.
Quiet! Do you hear that sound?
Roots taking hold in the ground.
Stay on your feet - don't let them hold you down.
Take three steps forward, no steps back
Until you reach your goal, no looking back.
Vulnerability is best to deepen your experience.
Wherever you go, collect the deepest sentiments.
Xerox copies won't work for this,
You must ensure utmost pureness.
Zephyrs guide you, zeniths guard you; don't lose faith,
         your heart will guide you.

it's familiar and new
how can that be true?

I guess you could say
it's kind of the way
that your beard is uneven
and your body is pleasin'

I guess you could say
it's the games that we play
when we're both lacking sleep and
we laugh 'til we're screamin'

I guess you could say
it's kind of the way
you drum 'til I'm keepin'
the rhythm you're beatin'

I guess you could say
it's the way that you lay
as I watch when you're sleepin'
and snorin' and dreamin'

I guess you could say
it's every single day
we can't help but cravin'
this love that we're made in

It feels like being empty
but
you're filled with all the wrong things.
They hurt you,
but
you like them after a while.
They don't fit you
but
you fill them out.

An old outfit. Comfortable. Worn in.
To change is exposure to more of the same
Which
You secretly crave.

To pull on that old self
and disappear
behind the layers.
So complex you don't recognize yourself
when you're outside.

You can't let yourself heal -
Fresh air stings the burns.
When you breathe it in it hisses,
     chills your teeth
Relief.
For just a moment
A new hurt.

Warm air licks the mirror.
Steam sticks, lingers.
Your arms wrap around my waist
My heart sinks.

You rise slowly against my back
Kiss down the shivers in my neck.

My eyes lock on your eyelids-
Closed so you'll see him.

Your hand slides up my back
To shove me forward.
You guide yourself
Although you're always a little off.

I can feel our height difference
in your muscle memory.