Slowly, her fingers run
under the seal of a yellowed
envelop as if brushing against
his lips as he kissed it shut.

He delicately penned gentle
words, but a thousand
letters aren’t sufficient to prove his
devotion – A thousand miles not

enough to keep them apart. Once
only bound by infatuation and perpetual
poor timing, doomed to perish with
nothing but memories of a midnight

cursing the ticking second hand,
memorizing each embrace. She
refuses to buy into fate, but her’s is
sealed like the envelop in her hands.

Studying each word, running her
fingers over dried ink as if brushing
against his determined hand as he wrote.

Clouds are thick.
Moon is full.
Wind is strong.

Only now does her brokenness fit in.
Only now can she freely express
true colors – black and gray
flow from her tongue as she is trapped
between anger and mourning.
When the sun shines, it is easy to find
her joy and effortless smile. But
just as the earth would dry up
without rain, just as the grass would
yellow and the crops would whither
away – she can only suppress
the storm within her for so long.

She can’t live on sunshine alone.

She can’t live on love alone.

My God, I am down on my knees, please help me fight my demons. I am filled with envy, I am filled with hate, I am overcome with anger. Remove these from me. I realize that sometimes it takes being knocked off your feet to be reminded of the mercy of the Lord, but finding myself in this position, I struggle to keep faith. I desire to praise you even in the darkest of times, in the midst of trials. But I am too battered and worn to lift my head. Please give me the strength. Help me to see that your will is greater than any plan I ever imagined. Help me believe that you are sovereign, and that your “no” means “I have something greater in store”. I will fight this battle within me and around me until I can stand, victorious. I will win the war. Until this moment, down on my knees, I had forgotten that I cannot do this alone. Without you, Lord, I am nothing. I am a mere mortal waiting to die. But with you, I am victorious. I am more than just my flesh, I am my soul. I pray to you, asking you to help this truth become buried inside of my heart. Tonight, as the demons of hate, envy, and anger rip me apart, I pray that I find the strength to push them aside. Instead I will fill myself with love, as I fill myself with you. You are love. I desire to be more and more like you each day. I am far from this – my imperfections far outweigh my good. I am a sinner, but your mercy makes me whole, and for that I am forever thankful. I pray these things in your holy name, Amen.

In an instant, I am
knocked to my knees.
How foolish to think
man’s plan is more than
simple pencil markings
on calendars. Unwise
to place faith in anything
other than the rock
that is our Savior.

His will be done.

There is beauty
in brokenness when
we place our broken
hearts in his hands.
But doors will open,
time moves on, and
we glorify Him in all
things. In suffering,
we grow closer to one
another as we cling to Him.

Farther away now than ever.
Yet I can almost feel your
breath on my neck. Not a single
word spoken, but you speak

through song. I know it’s wrong,
but it’s like hitting every green
light when you are praying
for something to stop you -

just slow me down.

In the dark of the night, I reach for you.
But there is never enough tread
on my tires to get that far. Hasn’t it
always been this way? Even beside you,

I was searching for depth and diving into puddles.

Night finally falls.
I lie awake, knowing
sun must deliver a new day
– this must end.

Despite how many nights
we repeat good-bye, or how
tight we encase our thoughts
– they always escape.

Dreams never do harness desire.
It’s amid the night we earn a taste of passion
– leading us to wanting more as the day breaks.

Blame it on the city
and the whiskey – if you
want an excuse.

Tonight it’s the deliberate
release. A drink to
unlock the lips that
used to whisper

softly in my ear. Secrets
that have been dwelling,
dormant, come to
life with another sip. Each

drop on your lips reminds
you of how I tasted. To hell
with self control. The space
between us is both a blessing

and a curse. How dare you
take my delicate mind back
to that place. Is there
harm in desire? It’s nothing

more than the memories that
become more clear
as the rest of your mind
becomes hazy. But you knew

the danger of writing only
under the weight of the bottle.
The lighter the load, the truer
the words. The fear you fake

of what you’ll say
fades as the buzz wears
off and you look down
to read the truest words

ever written. So blame it on
the city and the whiskey
and forget it -

or refuse to forget at all.

Light pours in
through the opened
curtains in the middle
of the night. Lying
awake, there are no
shadows to fear.

But with a moon this
bright, there is no rest.
Even the deer feed
throughout the night – they
know no difference. Our minds

run a race that doesn’t end
until the light of day. She
puts up a fight. Oh
how can She be such a
beauty, and still a tragedy -

enchanting.

Tonight, She awakens
the most wonderful
thoughts. Things you would
not dare imagine in the darkest
nights; She knows the good

ones are often the
worst to think.
They are as tempting as
She, but hung just beyond
our reach. Eventually,

the day with conquer,
and we can rest.

It’s a walk to be taken alone;
company is distraction in a familiar
place. I’ll set off down

the trail kept by Mother Nature,
in hope that she will welcome me
with open arms – the thick brush captures

my soul. Fighting through the grown-
up thicket and grown-out branches
to walk a once forgotten path. Alone,

I’ll tread a new territory that can leave the weak
and strong beaten alike – even thick denim
rips with the sharpest thorns. I’ll fall to my knees

but the suffering is worth the gain
as the path disentangles to confess
a sunset brighter than the one that began.

The screen door still won’t shut
from the fight they had last spring.
She lied her way right out
of that door, and she hasn’t been
back – until now.

Now it’s cold, too cold for a Southern
September, but the front-porch fern
is dying just the same. The late night frost
reminds her that Summer has forgotten
to thaw her out. She’s bitter,

but she wears it well.
She wants to care, but she can’t recall
the last kiss that was more than a simple touch
of two mouths – a lip for a lip.
She wants to care, but her eyes are fixed

on the chipped paint on the wall
by the light switch, and the flickering light
in the hall. His eyes are closed.
The road home is long and dark. Her worn
out tires are spinning like the wheels

in her head. Her tingling chin is still red
from his scruffy face.

He walked beautifully. In perfect strides on the sidewalk – missing the cracks, as if on purpose, without looking down. He must be a Mama’s boy. I could shout down to him, but I’ll just watch and hope his walk leads my way. I hear a voice behind me, “you trying to catch up for class?”

“Yes”, I lie. Little does he know, the only thing I am trying to catch is my breath.

Sad to see that old
cracked glass, filled
full with memories – past.

Remnants
of a book they wrote.

Fragments
of a heart he broke.

After all this time, she
worships the little shrine.
Pretty, still, but a cage, that
won’t let her turn the page.

Jump in, take a chance,
light a match
of romance. Fireflies
light the sky; just a girl and
a guy. Play fair – wait
your turn. Play with
fire
– you’ll get burned.

Time moves on.
Quicker than a river.

Soon, we will be
dirt underneath the
waters. Stones will
crumble, metal
will rust, love will
conquer. “For what
does a man profit
if he gains the whole
world and loses
his soul?” Money
will vanish. Coins will
rust & riches
will be found within
ourselves.