isn't it ironic
that a body
that was once
capable of
creating life

can also manage
to destroy it

Every 40 seconds,
Someone in the world,
Dies buy suicide.

Every 41 seconds,
Someone is left to,
Make sense of it all.

Jesus has risen.
But what else?
The sea level, and it was already up to my chest.
My blood pressure, and the screaming just made it worse.
A desire to vanish, and in a more permanent way.
For a moment I envied being an absent God to people.
I would feel their love, and they would know that they are loved,
yet they wouldn't need to
hear me,
see me,
feel me,
smell me,
or taste me
to believe in the overflowing love I possess for everyone but myself.

I can’t bear to watch
your coffin kiss the ground.  
I’m begging you, ring the bell—
please just make a sound

The only requirement to be loved in this world
Is to exist.
When a baby is hungry,
Or crying,
Or needs love,
We give them all we can.
They exist.
That's all we ask.
So today, when my stomach growls,
Today, when my heart hurts,
Today, when I need to be held,
I will not look at the tally
On my never ending score card,
And see what I deserve,
Instead,
I will give myself all that I can.
Because I exist.

I paint daisy chains
On sharp edges
Roses in my hollows
Starvation in full bloom
Is lovelier than death
So I'll throw bouquets
On my own casket
And dig shallow graves
In my tummy
Bury yesterdays love
Resurrect today's doubt
At least skeletons
Are not afraid to die

Grief.
They always say “it comes in waves”
Sometimes the waves are your t shirts I sleep in.
Sometimes they are your secret chili recipe we will never be able to recreate.

Other times the waves turn into a typhoon.
They crash so loud around me
They drown out your voice
They drown out your laugh
They drown out your smell
I’m drowning
I can’t see

They are pulling me
Down
   Down
      Down
With
    Them
Eventually,
   They
     Endup
       Drowning





                                   Me.

Couldn't        find
                                       Words
                          Clear concise exact
                                        To say
                                           My
                                          Soul
               ­                     Is weighted
                                     Differently
                            Almost accustomed
                                          Now
        ­                              To        what
                    ­                   Was heavy,
                           Barely                      there
                               ­       To         what
                                     Was feathers,
                               Now              boulders
                                       ­   While
                                    Rivers returned
                                          To flow
                                            over
           ­                            My deserts