When God came into my life,
I was young,
Younger than I am currently,
Starting to pick up on all of the strife,
And though it stung,
I was still very naive.
Things stopped making sense,
And I felt a voice inside of me,
Telling me to confess,
And learn a new life to lead.

Everything changed,
And I opened my eyes,
I saw the world in a new light.
I felt an urge to care,
Where before I wouldn’t dare,
For better or worse,
Free from my former curse.

When God came into my life,
He showed me the light,
At the time,
When I needed it most,
To prepare for the upcoming fight.
If He hadn’t,
I can’t guarantee I’d survive.
There’s light at the end of the tunnel.
Don’t make decisions that get you into trouble.
It’s okay to cry,
To let your emotions fly,
No need to constantly hide,
Behind the layers of your mind.
There’s people who want to see you,
They’re waiting just outside,
You just have to be willing,
To search and to find.
“Knock and the door will be opened.”
If I ask.
I hope I stay on the path,
And are committed to the task.
Don’t want to go astray,
Or break away.

When God held my hand,
As I listened,
To my friend’s discontentment and resentment,
I kept my head held high.
If He wasn’t there,
I can’t say for certain I’d still be around.
When my friend attempted,
To throw away her life,
And she did what she did,
Perhaps I’d be by her side.

When God pulled me up,
From the hole I dug,
Because I believed,
That listening was enough,
To change her,
Yet, I found myself stranded in muck.
He’s kept my head on my shoulders,
When I look down,
He tilts my chin toward the sky.
He doesn’t judge me for my failures,
I wish I could see myself,
Through His eyes.

I don’t ever thank him,
For all He’s done for me,
But when my life seems to unravel at the seams,
I believe.
That tomorrow, He’ll be with me like he was today,
He’ll hold my hand to keep me from going astray,
As long as I keep on keeping on,
Along the way.
He will show me brighter days!

When God came into my life,
He showed that the world was more than pain and strife,
And as long as I’m alive,
I hope I never leave his side…

bound by an oath you gave
before you even knew your own name,
held hostage to their righteousness,
consumed by the weight of their sins.
waiting for a punishment that never comes,
hoping for a timely release,
counting the days until you're summoned.
free at last,
free at last.
your only inheritance is fear,
bound by an oath you gave
before you could even speak.

My heart is mine to rule. My life is mine to spend.
My soul is mine to stain. My mind is mine to end.
I shall grant no quarter, to fancies without order.
Fairy tales, I name them—fools, the ones who claim them.
Though reason may be theirs, though logic may be sound,
Fools I still will call them—their whispers, I will drown.
I will not heed their reasons, for reason I reject.
I will not grant them audience; their pleas, I shall forget.
Wicked, cruel, deceivers—all who claim faith’s name,
I blind my eyes against their love, for sight would bear me shame.

Yet still this hound pursues me in comment and in creed,
Soft-speaking of a Love unknown, my tears begin to bleed.
In painted dreams He haunts me, with visions rich and bright,
Where life and purpose bloom, in hues I dare not write.
His voice like water calls me, it soothes, it lulls, it sings.
Yet I will not be conquered—I will not bow to kings!
I steel my heart against Him, I bar the door with pride,
For though the song is lovely, I must not step inside.

He's writ his sonnets on my soul, yet I shall tear them free,
For though my heart may hunger, I will not let it be.
Let me be a dust speck—a fleeting breath of clay.
Let me rot in comfort until I meet decay.
No joy, no peace, no meaning beyond this fleeting spark—
No future shall I fathom; I will not fear the dark.

Too harsh, too cruel, too simple, this writ upon my soul.
My pride will suffer nothing more than death to be my whole.
I stand upon this nothing, unshaken and alone,
A throne of silent echoes, a heart as hard as stone.

Yet echoes of that singing still haunt the air I breathe,
And whispers trace a hollow space, where certainty should be.

I walk the middle line,
Open to hearing both sides.
Things are rarely black and white,
That’s something you’ll find.
There’s always nuance,
Though people may deny,
Open your mind,
And realize,
That perhaps you aren’t always right.
So many petty fights,
For “rights”
Stirring up so much strife,
For what?
Why can’t we just live life?
I try,
To be open minded,
And walk the middle line.
Always scouring the desert for nuance,
And nuance I always find.

A core belief is a thing you can lean into with no second thought
You trust in it's way of leading you
Stretching those nerves
cracking knuckles to haunt your neighbor

Pearl bracelet hanging low, not even trying to hug your arm
Calming your fingers from picking at that hangnail
It’s an annoying habit with a millisecond of relief

Blisters from sharpening those pencils,
for a battle with your notebook.
Letters you don't know, when they'll attack, in what shape or form
A blister you'll have to work around, the angst gives you space for more hangnails picking

The space between your fingernail and your next endeavor is a leap of struggle
or a buffet of choices which in all realness is just a lot of overthinking as a slow road to insanity

My core belief is an quivering tree of question marks
I think it represents the mindset
to begin anything with a clean slate

Have no expectations, then you won’t be disappointed
And you get surprised if it's actually not bad
But as an overthinker with anxiety and autism I stand with the quivering tree of question marks
I begin with a silent question, who is even listening

Trying to catch phrases, pauses, looks, body language
And then the quivering tree switches the question marks to nests of information

Mental notes of things I think is important, learning later that I missed the main point
Maybe the jokes lands a bit late
It’s okay, I get there in the end

A tree is a main point for endless branches and leaves
The real gold is the process you can’t see
The roots
The roots with its wings that never sleeps
Constantly expanding, learning and growing even when others only sees what the tree lets it see

A core belief of
a pessimist
a lingering friendship
a healing wound
a riptide