Sometimes the crayon breaks in the middle of your drawing
That doesn't mean you stop; blend your sun-rays into skylines
You'll look like Van Gogh seeing
Setbacks as opportunities to find
Beauty you never would have thought to look for

I look to the stars
As if I will make their
Acquaintance
I look to you
As if you weren’t
Bright enough

As the sun comes up
And I say goodbye
To my dreams
Reality reminds me
You’re always with me

I cannot see their eyes, but their faces haunt me at night.

I have never felt the touch of their lips, but I can never forget their hands.

Love is a fickle thing and if you aren't brave enough, it won't hang around.
I learned through loss that courage has nothing to do with what you have.

8-year-olds who don't check under the bed have courage.
17-year-olds who know how to say "No" have courage.
Mothers without husbands have courage.

Love wants us to be courageous.
She asks a lot because she will never give up;

Broken hearts come from people giving up on her.

Tonights stars look like bubbles
In a glass of champaign,
Like the world got drunk
On all the dreams we didn't chase

Stormy weather is God's way of saying we could have done better
Or tried harder
The sound of breathing is just the rhythm
Undoing all the potential I used to have
I hide under my covers hoping that my fears
Are as afraid of the dark as I am
My smile is just the curve of the lies I tell myself
“Everything is going to be okay, one day.”
I might be sleeping two hours a day
And that’s a long time
To be with someone you don’t like and doesn’t like you back
Or maybe it’s because I’m scared of what my self-concise might tell me
In my dreams
The alarm clock that illuminates my room reminds me
I’m not on time for being myself.
I missed being who I wanted to be
A few years ago
And I haven’t caught up
It reminds me of how far I have to go and how little time I have left
Sometimes I have to let a tear fall, to remind myself
I’m alive
Every day I memorize my name
So it wouldn’t sound weird as I talk to myself in the mirror
I want my name to sound like something I can be proud of
We are our own heroes and until we realize our strength
We’ll bend at the knee to heed the directions of people
who know us less than we know ourselves
It seems impossible because when I cry I have to no idea why
When I laugh I don’t understand that
I’m the joke
Like a clown without makeup
Like the girl sitting in the back of class: self-conscious about her bad hair day
I love the mess because it’s how I really feel and at least
She’s brave enough to embrace it and face it.
I simply hide behind my shower curtain of indulgence and cowardice
Unfortunately, I’m not very fast and my problems are catching up
I’m throwing up my hands in shackles
Limiting my ability to wipe my tears
After 23 years I understand we’re all kids in adult clothing
Trying to fill our baggy pants with our own pride and big egos
We have neck ties of lies we tell others to fell a little bigger
Stripped down to loose shorts we con show the tattoos of humility
We weren’t ready to show
And unable to let go
Make it through the night and look outside
The sunrise is simply God’s interpretation of what our dreams may have looked like
He does it because we can’t remember the details

I am living on my own
I am better suited in a community
I haven’t had reason to use my voice
Since she stopped talking to me

On sunny days I go out
Hoping someone will talk to me
Even if it’s just,
“What the hell are you looking at?”
Staring is awkward

But I could say,
“I see you,”
Like when we play peek-a-boo
With infants
Before we forgot what laughter
Was supposed to sound like
Now laughter sounds like my voice
Silence.

I just want to answer a question
Which wasn’t posed by myself
Remember the line about
"We were all meant to shine
Like children do,
Because the glory of God is in each of us?"
Well sometimes I think
The glory of God
Looks too much like Seattle in springtime
Overcast and drizzly

His glory is in us
But we don’t let it out
Because of how scared we are
Of seeing ourselves in the light
Mistakes are masked
In the dust and darkness

Our broken-heart pieces are stored
On shelves high out of reach
Childish hopes and dreams
Have long since given up
Trying to believe
They will ever learn to walk

We are perfected through struggle.
Like sunrises after hollow nights.

You have to get up; try again.

Because even the sun has thought,
"I am too weak to stand,"

And rose anyway.

You shine brighter than the sun, even on a perfect summer day.