Young Love

We were kids when we fell in love.


We found ourselves in each other,

our hearts beating in the other’s body.

Our souls so intertwined

We never thought they could become disconnected


Now, pain and loss fill me

seeping through my body from places I never go

The pit of my being about to implode.


The years have been spent

saving each other from loneliness

Building each other up.

Never preparing for a fall.


You are here by my side

Also, far gone.

I yearn for you to see me

To want the woman I have become

As you did when we were young?

Words Come at Night

Words come at night

I no longer expect to sleep

The words come at night

A boundless amount of them to keep


So many stories to tell

I grab one with my fingers and put it to paper before it swirls back in with the rest.

Rest. I thrive on so little of it.

Words come at night.


Days are filled with movement,

leaving too little time to let forth the thoughts that desire to be written.

An idea here, a memory there

A story filled with feelings I wish never to bear.


I cannot escape them though

I must share to rid them from my soul

For if I were to close my eyes

they would haunt me in my dreams  


A blank page seen by my eyes alone 

Illuminated by the faint glowing of the moon’s light.

Enough for me to let out a small amount of what I need to say,

as my words come at night.

She Knew

“Will you still love me if I go crazy?” she spit the words out before the fear of his

answer could stop her from asking. “You’re not going to go crazy.” he said as he

fought exhaustion. He seemed to shrug off her question, not realizing the intensity in

what she was asking him. “Yes though, I would love you,” he replied as if to humor

her random musings. He lay beside her in her dorm room and soon was fast asleep,

leaving her to think about his answer.

She knew he was wrong for she already felt herself detaching from reality. She knew

neither of them could perceive what was to come but she hoped his love would

remain long after her mind was gone.


There are the days I dance through.

The days that when I breathe I can feel a rush as the air fills my body,

reminding me to live.

These are the days that I hold onto.


There are days that I dance across the room.

My babies hold tight to my neck and lean back as we twirl together.

Their laughter mixes with the rhythm of the music

These days are filled with joy.


There are days of dancing through the kitchen.

The smell of sweet cookies and comfort baking

Mixing both memories and love to fill the bodies and souls of those I cherish.

These are the days I feel accomplished and proud.


There are days I dance, held in his arms with my head upon his chest.

Swaying slowly to sounds of our past

bringing to mind the places we have been. 

I feel safe and not insane.

These are the days of pure love.


There are days I can only crawl through.

I am depleted, alone.

Unable to fill my lungs with breath.

Scared and tired, I have failed them once again.

These are the days I fight to overcome

so that I can dance once more.

Lies of Love

Love is Patient

Love is Kind

But apparently loves not blind


Stand on your stage

As we sit in the pew

Tell us dear Pastor,

What your Jesus would do.


Don’t you see the despair

That’s not under your steeples?

Or does your love only reach to privileged, white people?


You are the one that you’ve warned us about.

You are the wolf in sheep’s skin,

I won’t be apart of hate winning again.


I must walk away 

From your blasphemous lies

Tell me oh father,

why do you ignore the pain in other’s eyes?


I’ll no longer let your words

Poison my veins

Harshly aware

You’re no better than Cain.


Sending prayers overseas,

your poor neighbors well wishes.

I want my words to be actions

So call me a heretic, while I join the “bitches”


Although you taught me I’m weak

I’ve learned my strength lies within.

So while you preach your darkness,

I’ll fight to let love and light win.


Farewell to the church created

by man

I long for the day you let love in



Weeping Well

A hole deep and dark

Its depths reaching further down than the eye can see.

Long ago left by its creator

The stones that line the inside keep it from crumbling in on itself

Supported by the weight of the muck and water, the walls hold steadfast.

Storms come. Years pass. Heavy rains fill the hole until it can hold no more.

It starts to seep over its own edges

The muck and water flow freely over the earth.

On the heaviest of days the overflow is pushed far from the filth of the hole.

Lighter days bring trickles, fighting to be the ones that break free.

The water reaches the green of the ground only to be absorbed back into the depths it has just fought so long to escape.

Alas, this is different. It is pulled down but no longer stuck within itself, swirling in the wind yet going nowhere.

Instead, this darkness uses the water to bring forth new life. Sprouting colors towards the sun and sending branches reaching far into a world it has never known.

Seeing the beauty arise around it, the Well yearns to weep itself dry.

A newfound understanding of life wills it to brace though the coming storms, knowing that from it’s squalor, life will bloom.  


She sat with a knife to her stomach.

The one that was usually kept under her pillow to keep the monsters at bay as she slept.

The monster was inside her now.

She had to get him out and no amount of purging or starving had worked.  This

was the option left to her.

She could hear footsteps above her.

They didn’t deter her. Her housemates would not come down.

They never did.

No one did.

She craved to be alone. Away from the yelling and the endless questions of her

parent’s home.

Now that she was, she faced her darkest thoughts.

Her memories of his hands moving across her maturing body. Her mind racing. She was eleven and could not understand his desires. His touch made her sick, though she did not know why.

As her hand shook she grabbed a chunk of her skin thinking of the best place

for the incision to begin. She wanted to make sure that she removed the largest

amount of fat. As much of the ugliness that she could. She knew that when they

found her they would have to repair her and she would be small again. Rid of

the monster that had made her large for so long.

Her grandmother’s voice called out for him from the kitchen. He continued to move his old hand over her chest. So slowly. Right to left like he was feeling a treasure for the first time.

The voice called for him again. This time he stopped moving his hand and lifted it off of her stiff body. He got off of the bed and walked towards the open bedroom door, telling her it was time for lunch.

The room was spinning and somehow had gotten darker. The tip of the knife

should of hurt her but she felt nothing. It was not as sharp as she had hoped

and after ten years of fighting, her arms were too weak to push the blade


She wanted the sickening pain out of herself so badly. She wanted everyone one

to know her secrets so that they no longer ate her alive. Longing to be done she

tried again to extract the wickedness he had so smoothly rubbed into her. She

could not.

A feeling that did not come from within herself enveloped the room. It seemed

to tell her there was another way. Her voice had been pushed back into her

throat all of these years but the feeling that surrounded her told her she could

speak. Still, no sound left her as she gagged on the sobs that were released.

She heard the clang of the metal blade hitting the cement floor. It was her first

word in her fight to survive.