It's clear tape
Glistening around a broken
Shoe
Heels aching
From standing up so long
The lightness you feel
Laying down after a day of hard work
The steps you took to get here
The people you had to leave behind
Who you once followed
The finish line
That only starts another race
Through the next few pages of your book
The steps that make you, break you,
Take you
To where you're supposed to be

These pictures I stare at
Look back at me.
I wonder, sometimes,
What do pictures see?

Have I changed at all?
Or have I stayed just the same
As that girl in the pictures
Who shares my name?

Is this where she hoped
She would be in the world?
That smiling, vibrant,
Lighthearted girl.

Did she hold onto her dreams,
Her morals, her faith?
Or has that hope faded,
Leaving no trace?

There’s that picture on the beach
Where she reads a book in the sand
Or the one where she stands with
Her family hand in hand.

Little do these
Stilled moments know,
She can still hear those waves
Rolling as the wind blows.

She can still feel
The chill of that rapid, blue creek
As her toes and the water
Reluctantly meet.

These moments were captured
But they never stopped time.
They piled up like shells
That the tide left behind.  

The current is constantly
Shaping the shore.
She won’t always be
Who she was before.

But one day she’ll be looking
At pictures again
That don’t always show
Who she is within.

Eventually she’ll be able
To look back and say,
You would be happy
With who you are today.

A half-full shot glass
A decorated grave
A 21st birthday
The 6th one you didn’t
Celebrate
In the cold chill of that night
The shot of Crown burning my throat
Did not warm me
But the words you whispered
From a half-lived life
That you lived to the fullest
Blanketed my heart
And calmed my soul
And I knew

That no matter how long that glass sits half-full in front of your grave, your half-lived life that you lived to the fullest will overflow from the sky as blue as your eyes and your love will pour onto us like rain in a drought.

Leaving our hearts half-filled with your
Spirit
The other half living in Heaven

For a while it took away
Her smile
And in its place left
An almost-hidden frown
That would try to stretch up at the corners
And then fall
        back into place
As if the sadness in her eyes
Told it                               “not right now”
And it hurt
Not only did the chemo hurt
Not only did the needles hurt
It hurt to see her
hurt

For a while it took away
Her will
To think positively
To get out of bed
To shop, her favorite hobby
And for a while
it took her laughter, and its contagiousness

But as her hair fell to the ground
At the swift claws of that razor                         Something changed
Because no matter what it took away
it could not, and would not, ever, touch her                      Faith
Everything she lost made that faith stronger
And in that faith she again found

Her smile, her will, and her laughter

She began to feel the beauty in the struggle and the sense of how
benign
it was to He who
Created her smile, her will, and her laughter

I don’t see how anyone can look into the eyes of someone who has suffered, blue eyes that shimmer with the light of a faith so strong it’s become deeply embedded into them, and say there is no Savior

I can tell you that when I look at Nan, and see her will, her smile, her laughter, I can tell you that I’ve seen the wonders of faith first-hand. I can tell you that yes, I’ve seen a Savior

Loving me
Is late night lines of
Poetry
Read or written
Living vicariously through
Television shows
Loving me
Is new each morning
Hair straight
Hair curly
No make up today
Throwing on that pair of converse filled with coffee stains
Loving me
Is singing in the car
And pretending I don't know how tone-deaf I sound
Smiling at strangers
Drinking caffeine responsibly
Thinking I should probably pray more but never making the time
Loving me is
Saying no to that date
Working late
And waking up early because
Why would I want to miss one more second
Of a new and undiscovered morning
Loving me
Is finding myself
In a cramped desk in an old classroom
Under short, thin blonde hair
Between the bindings of a book
Curled in the sheets of my own bed
Chilled from a running fan
Because I like to be able to snuggle up
In blankets and pillows
And wake up searching for the socks that
I kicked off overnight in the warmth of my makeshift nest
I am a bird
And loving me
Is flying
High up in the sky
Away from the
Lying
Loving me is
Appreciating solitude
And listening to my own needs
When you ask me why I'm
"Alone"
It's because no one took the time to understand
How to love me
So here I am
Learning that before, during, and after loving someone else
I should always,
Forever,
Unconditionally
be
Loving me

Before the murky waters came
Life was different
Maw-Maw’s red-bricked house sat at the back of our dead-end road
The ever-welcoming glass door with the
Faulty hitch opened up to a two-step stair
Leading down into a living room
Encompassed with the smell of
Cajun cooking
And basked in the essence
Of Family

After the murky waters came
Life looked different
I remember the water whirl pooling into the tops of my
rain boots
As I trudged next door to my aunt’s water-lined house
To comfort Maw-Maw, who lost everything
Her tears falling into the stench-infested puddles at her feet
And jumping right back up in a splash as if they too
Were hurrying to find shelter

The heat of the sun held the
Stench of the monster
That had us all in its grip
Patches of brown grass mocked us
Where the water had decided to leave early
And accumulate somewhere else

Piles of our lives lined the driveways
Mildew fogged up the windows of
Miscellaneous cars and trucks
Which still held secrets that the murky waters left inside
What could be salvaged
What remnants were left
From before
The murky waters came

Floors were ripped up
Walls gutted out
Bricks broke easily under the weight
Of demolition
Our hearts broke easily under the weight
Of the water

I once watched a documentary about horror
Which was described as something that simply should not be
but somehow
is
Horror was the bulging, black molded bar in my kitchen
The scattered furniture in my living room
The stench that took over my senses at the opening of a door to go inside or outside; fresh air forgotten
The fact that my bedroom looked normal in spite of the soggy carpet and the
Drooping painting hanging on my wall,
Clothes strewn across my bed in an effort
To survive

After the murky waters left
Life was different
Life became “before the flood” and “after the flood”
“Hey, how are you,” became “have you heard from FEMA?”
“What are you up to” became “are y’all raising or demolishing?”
Three mountains of bricks down my road became
Trailers on pedestals
The trash, our former possessions, was eventually gone
New replaced the old

Now
life is life
We are thankful for what we have
We still sit on that wooden swing in the shade of the afternoon
And we reminisce of a time before the murky waters came
All the while appreciating the
Now

And we still laugh together
We still cry together
Up in that storm-safe trailer
At the back of our dead-end road
Gumbo is cooking on the stove
And we’re basking warmly in the essence
Of Family