she
smokes a joint
after *** (the
music fading like
clouds)
he says
he loves her even when
she's wrong
(his voice a
soft thread of
certainty)

he would
defend her
(unlike
those others)
against the fire of
her parents'
words
and with her could
debate
the stars,
the sky,
the silent spin
of worlds
unseen

he keeps her
like a queen (but
only because they
build
their kingdom together,
brick by
brick
in the quiet
hours)

their late-night
conversations
map the
unspoken terrain
of what love means
when the clock
whispers secrets

she waits
(always,
always) for him—
stitching
fragments of his
family into something
whole
like she pieces
herself together,
tender hands
wrapping around
his sharp edges

she speaks
to the wolf in him
that rises
with the lunar pull of
his control,
her words
the tether,
the calm,
the stilling wind.

No matter what, in our lives, we do
Everything is better when I work with you
He created us to be together, created us to share
In His Glory and feel his presence everywhere
On our own, we try to create a song, a work of art
It's simple and awkward, but filled with such heart
We were not supposed to go it alone
But as iron sharpens iron to help and hone
We try to do the will of God
We try to hear what He is saying
Our attempts are small and feeble at best
But he sees us and quietly he smiles and nods
He whispers in our ear "Don't stop. Keep playing"
And transforms our sad solo into a divine duet

When we find ourselves taken by bitter sorrow
When we don't know if the sun will rise tomorrow
When we drink with Jesus the cup of suffering
When we think about his blood that is covering
When we recall the seven sorrows of Mary
And how, her son's lifeless body, she would carry
Midwives used myrrh against pain in childbirth
Mary, of all women, knew how much it is worth
Her very name is from Myrrh: meaning bitter
And through it all she wasn't a quitter
It is costly and rare, signifying suffering and death
But it is also used to prepare and purify
The bodies of those who had died
She shares our sorrows, and she dries our tears
She listens and prays for us; she understands our fears
We can run to our mother and be safe in her arms
To find healing and peace away from all that harms
She knows the value of suffering
And she knows just what it cost
A gift of love transcending everything
Her son hung on a rugged cross

Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Through our suffering, prepare our hearts and purify
That we might be an acceptable offering to God when we die
Take us back home to Heaven where we belong
When we are together, we are better; we are strong

We are all beat up and broken down
Our hearts are like broken glass
Bruised and bloodied knocked upon the ground
We are lost like a man with no compass
We are small and frail and weak
The image is twisted by sin and shame
But in the void, the silence will speak
And the one who loves will call our name
The King of Kings and Lord of Lords
Prince of Peace the Lion and the Lamb
His death brought us from chaos to one accord
He is eternal and He is the Great I AM
He was broken for us
He was pierced for love
He was crushed for our sins
Obedient to the Father above
This is where the healing begins
His body is broken and his blood poured out
He calls us to faith even when we doubt
By giving himself, he makes us whole
He enters in and restores our soul
There is a longing this world can't satisfy
There isn't a thing that we won't try
But we are left hungry and unfulfilled
But with God, we find radical love and fears are stilled
We may be broken, but let us be broken together
Clinging to Jesus in the storms and bad weather
For he heals the broken hearted and brings joy to the sad
He binds the wounded and brings the lost back to the field
He is the Divine Physician He is the Balm of Gilead
So, turn to the Lord and be not broken, but be healed

Lord, we are broken people, and we need you in our lives. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put us back together again, but you can Lord. Only say the word and our souls will be healed. You are perfect and we, most definitely, are not. We are broken, but we are not broken alone. You were broken for us so that we might be made whole with you. We die with you so we may, one day, rise with you to new and glorious eternal life. Heal us Lord. Heal our streets and lands, heal us Lord by the working of your hands. Hear our cries and come swiftly to our aid. You, Oh Lord, are our refuge and our strength. Break us, bless us, multiply us and perfect us. All this we pray, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen

perhaps the most appealing part of you
is that we could never be together
never in the same room
under the pretenses between these sheets
laugh lines forming a parenthesis
becoming an unfinished sentence
embedded in your thread count

you always liked me better
when you couldn't see my face
roleplay began taking the shape
of a placeholder instead
missing what we couldn't have
taking what we could get
greedy and all-consuming lust

i wonder who else might feel the same way
when affection grows into resentment
repulsive to the tongue
forbidden love becomes bitter
when it is left to breathe over time

I want to be home
Intertwined with eachother
Now and evermore

In between I look

into the garden, hoping --


we'll be silent now.

I want to see you,

that's it, you really don't have --


to be sociable.