I feel forsaken
like a rolled newspaper in the rain.

Is that You? in the window box?
Is that You? magnificent in a woken engine?

I don't mean to be sullen,
a crushed flower with a brave yellow bloom--

I'm a vine growing in through the window
of your abandoned holy room.

Oh honey. My fingers flat upon
your smooth chest made of smoke,

I am rain falling ever further from her cloud.
Call me back---use your voice of *****-shaped leaves.

I will come, across the lawns and waters
to kneel at your feet
and sing.

I sank into the familiar couch — tense, prepared
for chastisement. I was met with warmth, a calm
reassurance that the events that had transpired

all served a greater purpose. A necessary unraveling.
Arriving at the end of myself at last. Could I salvage
a sense of normalcy? Did I want to? Things had shattered

beyond repair. What was I meant to hold onto? Discard?
Regeneration seemed an unattainable summit not meant for me.
As if reading my mind, my therapist spoke, his words of truth

stirring my spirit in a way my mind could not fathom.
When you experience that fear, go back to that place of surrender.
No more and no less. In silence, we sat in that dim sanctuary

for some time, the drone of the cars outside a sharp reminder
that I was still alive. I had people on my side who did not turn
their eyes away from my fragmented state of being. I spoke now

of the gradient colors of maples across the street. A brilliant hue.
My tone was flat, but it was still an observation made
with intact faculties.. Yes, that’s it. Keep that awareness. My therapist
nodded his encouragement. This is good. You’re able to focus, to recognize
beauty in the mundane. Keep going. Somehow, this simple statement
imbued me with the resolve to continue. My voice wavered

as I recalled how I saw my entire life flash before my eyes  
like a cruel cliché. How I was swept up into some
parallel dimension. One that was so much more real than this

world I’d been immersed in. You need to write it all down. At this point,
you may not be able to differentiate which parts truly happened and which parts
were illusions. So you’ll need to capture it all. His words rang true, and yet —

how could I bring myself to experience this once more,
to solidify what had happened to me and what I was still
moving through? Something in me knew that he was connecting it

all back to something much bigger than either of us. Something
or Someone present through it all. A silent witness who held the only
key that would set me free. The Truth that still waited patiently for me.

I did not leave the desert unchanged.
The heat shimmered as if reminding me that all I had beheld was a mirage, tempting as it was to grasp it tightly
in my palm.

The rumble of the charge still echoed
in my mind, my spirit fully awakened, body upright now. So many decades
of being bent and not realizing it.
My vision shifted

to the impossible becoming my reality.
The warrior women who spoke life over me, poised and unwavering
as those with wisdom often are.
Their eyes peered deeply into mine

and the dry bones were made flesh anew. Somewhere in the distance,
the little girl I once was (who had fought so fiercely to procure
my safety) waved at me

one final time. Thank you, dear
little one, for being there when I felt like I had nothing else left. You no longer have to spring to my rescue.
I can handle my battles now,

knowing that the ultimate victory
is mine through Him who strengthens me. As I left the desert, I didn't look back. I was free. And so was she. Somehow, it was enough.

I come from the cracked sidewalks of Chi-town, stoops
where we sat baking in blistering sun, listening
for the bells of the bicycles, so bold & eager for change
we could plop on the counter of the corner store.

In the constant drone of the deli, Italian grandpas
convened in their drab plaid, pressed khakis — coursing
the quiet confidence that comes from living that life
in the fast lane, simmering to a peace that permeates
each measured step. The bowls of minestrone soup
to warm their old bones: dead dreams reigniting.

I come from the family that never had anything
to own — but still didn’t allow me to go hungry.
I come from a steaming plate of sizzling
homemade dumplings, each juicy morsel
containing a mother’s fierce love for family.

I come from a long line of trauma responses
and the healing that only comes from truly creating.
I come from a great-grandmother, a grandmother,
a mother that poured out even when the jagged pieces
cut up our throats coming up. I come from having

lost my entire mind, frenzied forces pushing
my body up against a cold psych wall, no escape
in sight for me. I come from the guilt I'd held
for far too long, for missing the entire first
month of my daughter's life on this earth
when I couldn't even take care of myself.

Somewhere in the midst of coming to the end
of myself, I found You. You had never left.
I came home, battered and so broken, and You
enveloped me in Your healing Light. Selah.  



I’m walking in restoration, deep restoration,
a coursing river engorged with living water.
I finally allow myself to be fully immersed
in the wellspring that never runs dry. And there, fully
surrendered in the depths, I find that I can finally breathe.

Seattle is a sad place
This can be the space I hallow
Courage found to hear my grief
and face the life of hate I leave
Belief enough to begin again
Gaining newness
Making friends with all this blueness
Making time to let it go
Showing doubt passion flows
The moment that nostalgia knows passes by with bitterness
A feeling grows and shakes my bones
Bigger than any memory
Will I learn when my guts churn there is no phantom enemy?
I am not alone
My body will always be my home
Craving direction I follow the vulnerability of connection
Sobbing
Terrified to be seen in reflection
I reach out and embrace rejection
Accepting neglect of my better self, my soul ascends detection

Have you ever wondered?
Have you ever become?
Who is a villain?

Sit down.
Look at the skies.
Look at the people.
What good is there?

Nothing but vanity.
I have lived, and I have died.
I hated, and I was hated.
For that I am.
I am what I became.

Good?
Nothing but lies.
No good exists in this world.
Only hate, love, betrayal
And worst of all: regret.
Nothing but misery.
Nothing but loss and sadness.

If you ask
Yes, I once embraced goodness.
But when I woke up
And let it go
They scorned me.
They hated me.
Why?
In their eyes, I was different.
I was a villain.
I did not bother.
I am that I am.

I once asked myself:
Is there really a god?
If there is one
Why, when I prayed,
When I begged
Did He not hear me?
Why did He not save me?

And yet...
Nothing.
The king laughs at the fool,
And here I am
Praying to nothing.
To a silence dressed as a god.

There is no god.
If there is
He watches you suffer.
He watches joy blemish.
Why worship a god who enjoys pain?
That is your god, not mine.
I will not bow to a devil.
My head is my dignity.

Curse me all you want.
Hate me for all I care
Let the world deny me.
Let god disown me.
Only one thing has stayed with me
My shadow.
A reflection.
My true self.
The darkness.
And through him
I am known.

Let me tell you a story:
A man who wanted everything,
But was given nothing.
And still he smiled.

Only he knew
What was killing him inside.
He smiled because no one else knew.
No one could comfort him.

The world didn’t appreciate him.
It pushed him to the edge.
The struggle wasn’t enough.
He tried to show he was happy.

People mistreated him,
Bullied him,
Poured salt into his wounds.
No one thought anymore.
No one ever asked:
What is it like to be the other guy?

He accepted it all.
He bathed in insults like a child in the rain.
But this world wasn't made for him.
If only he hadn't been born.
He kept going.
Yearning for love.
Praying for peace.
Dreaming of happiness.

But it was all a dream
Too good to be true.

If what the people wanted was change,
Then change they would get.
But to his surprise
They feared him.
The world finally noticed him.

Their scorn wavered.
They followed.
He led.
He was on top.
And they called him a villain.

They said, “You’ve changed.”
But it was the world that changed him.

Who is a villain?
I tried to be good.
But you made it vanity.
Now I behave like you
And you call me the monster?

I let it all slide.
But you made me this.
You created this.

Let me tell you something:
People love watching a hero fall.
They don’t hate you
They hate your truth.

Nobody noticed me until I changed.
Until I removed my mask.
The greatest enemy of a man
Is himself.

People don’t love you.
They want from you.
Become weak.
Rely on them
Watch them vanish.

Gone like air.

When you’re weak,
They reveal their true selves.
In your final hour
They forget you.
Just like they forgot me.

I have lived.
I have died.
And I have transformed.

All that remains
Is a broken heart.

If only a hero knew
What I’ve been through...
These people aren’t worth saving.
They were never meant for salvation.

Don’t speak like them.
To them you’re a freak.
It’s all a lost cause.
Vanity.
Vanity whispers...
And yet, you still die for them.

You’re not their hero.
You’re their entertainment.
They’ll strip your worth
Then toss you aside.

Mockery becomes their joy.
Hatred becomes their anthem.

The more I tried,
The more I cracked.
My self shattered
Reforged into something new.

A villain is not born.
They are made.

It’s not that I’m bad
It’s that people refuse to see
Who they truly are.

I didn’t want this.
I didn’t choose this.
But what choice did I have?

My greatest wish
Is for you to know.
To know what I’ve endured.
To cry.
To mourn what I became.

You left your savior in the flames.
And turned your back.

Maybe this is how God felt
Creating a world
That mocked Him.

He tried to call them home
But they were too far gone.
Maybe He was a good God,
After all.

Hero
When I’m gone,
Sing my deeds in song.

Let them decide
Hate me...
Or praise me.

If they sing of me
I’ll be at peace beyond the stars.
I shall sing in heaven.

But ask yourself
What have you done?
What have you made me do?

I’m not at fault.
You’re not either.
This is life.
And life
Is the greatest trial of all.

Hero
Design my coffin with beauty and emeralds.
For I shall depart on a journey.
Maybe you were meant for this world.

I shall fly to my God’s embrace.
But before I go
Let me look at the stars.
The starry night I’ve always admired.
The moon’s soft beam
It calms me.
It always does.

You’ve been my joy.
The beauty of your creation
I adored.
And I envied.

It is time.

I can finally leave
Without regret.
Maybe I wasn’t bad after all.
Maybe I was just...
Lost.

Hero,
Shall we meet again?
Maybe then, I will truly see you.

When the time comes...
Till we meet again.