s - Hello Poetry

s Feb 2021

The August air suffocated me just like his words used to.
It was all too new, I was alone, and walking into a room full of people. My lungs were jumping out of my chest and I kept my hands by my side so you couldn't see them shake.
I walked into the chapel, took my seat, and told myself to not look as empty as I felt.

And then you walked in. My eyes latched onto you because it was the first glimpse of goodness that they had seen in so long. You sat next to me.

You were see-through. Not invisible, definitely not; but transparent. I saw your heart before I saw you. I had been staring at the same white walls I built around myself since he left and then you came, knocked them down, and showed me what it looks like to be open, exposed... free.

I think I was see-through too, but when you looked at me you just saw the spine that was barely holding me up instead of breath and being. I was running out of life, and you didn't think twice about breathing yours into me.

Please, whatever you do, don''t run out of air.

#love #relationships #life

s Sep 2020

Rope burn

All the signs pointed to you
for some reason
The universe seemed to always push us together
bring about bits of hope that remind me
you're not like the others
It all seemed right.

But I sit here with a half empty coffee cup and you're nowhere to be found.
I sit here and write about how brave Emily Dickinson was for not letting men define her while I think
What can I do to make you want me.
I do everything I can, but you want until I'm at the end of my rope to respond,
and so I climb right back up the rope until I can't see the coffee or things I'm pretending to do while I think of the ways I cant trust anyone anymore.
I climb and climb and climb
at the top
I see you and I focus
I ignore it when you start to push me back down, and only notice when I feel the rope burn on my hands.

s Sep 2020

The realization

I wish I could write about the things that don't hurt. like how the sky fights against the dark shoreline of trees. or how the sun makes everything glow golden in the mornings. and how the horses tails sway effortlessly back and forth as they graze the ground below them. But I can't do that, I don't know how. Or maybe I could write about the red windmill in the backyard that creaks and turns as the wind pushes through it. I hear the wind chimes and I'm reminded of my grandfather, reminded of his life and how his voice always boomed through the earth, the wind chimes doing the same now. I wish I could write about how I feel when I look at him. Ive been broken for a while now and gave up on that feeling, but he brings a different light than what I've seen before, kind of like the golden sun in the morning. I want to write about the warmth of the sun burning my back and I spread across the sheets waking up in the morning. The feeling of the tears running down my face when the boy gets the girl. the happy ending. I want to write about moms wildflowers that she planted in the garden, and how they shot from the ground and created a display of pattern and active color. At night, I open the door and see the night sky polluted with the burning stars, freckled with the white dots that remind me how small I am, how small my problems are.
I want to write about that.
I focus on the things that hurt because that's what you told me to do. Never expect the best, conceal those emotions, they're bad for you anyway. I want to write of the things that make me happy but you stole that from me a long time ago.

But as I look past what I've written now, I see the truth. Only in me, not in you.

s Sep 2020

Testimony

I was completely in the dark.
I had heard your name before, grown up knowing you were always supposed to be there but I was starting to think Heaven was a lot further than they said
You weren't answering me, I thought I must be praying wrong, why can't You hear me.
I was completely alone.
no, I was surrounded by people but they were overpowered by the voices in my head that told me constantly I wasn't enough. I wasn't smart enough, I wasn't special enough, I wasn't talented enough. I wasn't strong enough.
but somehow, I was too much for some people, at least that's what they said. Too much overthinking, too much fear, too many trust issues. too much liability.
I was completely exhausted.
I was tired of trying to be perfect and the person I was expected to be because my Grandma was the Sunday school teacher and my dad was a deacon. Put on the happy face, raise your hands in worship, and say amen loud enough for the person next to you to hear it. The mornings I couldn't get out of bed because I had nothing left to give, I got the passive aggressive "miss you in church, its been so long" text with a bible verse that reminded me to repent of my sins or Id be kicked out of the gates of Heaven.
I was completely confused.
Why did they treat me that way if they're supposed to love me unconditionally. How can they worship you but hate your creation, hate their neighbor. They're using scripture to condemn people instead of Love people like you do, God, do something.
I was completely giving up.
I was at my lowest but I couldn't feel you there..
I was so close to leaving when you said come home.
It was the first time I had truly heard Your voice. I was shaken to my knees and all I could do was surrender at Your name. You picked me up, called me your own, took my weight and carried it on your back as you led me to the place I was meant to be. You told me leave my shame, it does no good anymore. You told me I was loved, even when I was full of guilt. You brought light to the truth in love and spirit. You taught me how to love the ones around me, and to love myself.

I was no longer completely in the dark, for all You brought was light.
I was no longer completely alone, You walked each step I did.
I was no longer completely exhausted, You said rest, child. do not be weary.
I was no longer completely confused, You brought answers.
I was no longer giving up,
I was only complete.

#religion

s Sep 2020

Untitled

To my younger self:
Enjoy the size 4 days, they don't last long.
No one is going to remember that you tripped up the bleachers the morning of your first day of middle school, stop crying.
Stop telling mom to buy you miss me jeans. they're too expensive and they quickly go out of style.
The Beatles were definitely a thing before you started listening to your grandpa's old White Album.
but Nickleback is still cool no matter what anyone tells you.
Grow to love your freckles and stop using moms foundation to cover them up.
Your body is not meant to look like hers.
You're not gonna grow past 5'3, volleyball just isn't made for you.
Listen to mama, he's not worth those tears. I mean he failed his drivers test... twice.
The next boy you meet will show you the first glimpse of actual love, but don't let your guard down. You're too valuable.
He'll tell you he loves you and he'll mean it, stop worrying
Stop pushing yourself so far.
You're going to be too ******* yourself, but it's going to take you far. The Grand Canyon is more beautiful than you would expect.
Moving schools will be a good thing.
Stick with the tennis player, she's going to pull you out of your darkest days.
Your first heartbreak means you're only closer to your last.
Don't go to those parties, they're not even fun.
Geometry is only the beginning. Math only gets harder.
God hears you, even if it doesn't feel like it.
Junior year will be the hardest, but don't take it out on yourself.
Talk to someone, don't keep it to yourself, it will only make you feel worse.
You're gonna miss high-school, but college will show you who you're meant to be with.
You're beautiful, and you don't need a guy to tell you that, but he's out there somewhere.
You're going to make it through the nights on the shower floor.
You're going to be comfortable with who you are one day, trust me.
You are loved, and the people you your sophomore year of college will be sure to let you know.
you are enough.
remember these things, and take them to heart, but whatever you do,
Don't stop writing, one night you'll share your life through your own words.

s Sep 2020

Chapel

I walk into the room and my eyes immediately fall on you.
You look like someone Ive known from before, a different life maybe.
I want to say something, but I've forgotten how to speak.
I catch myself looking, hoping I'll catch you doing the same.
how do I get your attention. You're very confusing you know.
I can't tell who you are, but I know I want to.
Your heart is good, maybe too good for me.
I want you to make me a better person and I want to make you my person.
You're different from the others. I think this without knowing if you even know I'm here.
Look over if you do.

s Sep 2020

Written on her arms

Written on her arms are the lies she was told
the fear of never being enough but also being too much
at the same time.
the overwhelming fear of her own demons possessing your life
the feeling of loneliness in a crowd but the shouting and screaming in an empty room.
Written on her arms are the nights she spent on the shower floor
hoping the water would drown whatever was making her feel
that way
The stinging was the one thing she could feel after months of staying numb.
Written on her arms is the confusion of why God has forgotten her
She's been told he's there, so why isn't he answering.
She practically yelling at Him at this point, but she thinks heaven might be too far for Him to hear.
Written on her arms are the promises you made. The I love you's and forevers, but then the periods of silence
The "I promise I won't leave you" but then the "I didn't realize I have feelings for her too, I'm sorry."
The four years you spent together but then the text message ending them all on a random monday night. You send "I just don't want a relationship anymore" as you tell her to come over.
Written on her arms is the mourning she never thought she would have to go through. The long walk down the aisle to see you for the last time. The shirt she wears that's four sizes too big but it still smelled like you.
Her arms are getting full, and she's not sure what to do.
She prays and prays God will send her new ones.

She decides to start writing her own story. All the words she sees are starting to look like a foreign language. She's growing and healing.
she washes her hands, elbows, shoulders.
The words melt down the drain and she is clean.
A new chapter.