I doubt my soul will ever rest
Knowing there are those in eternal distress
How can I find peace when a wanderer meets
Such a fiery, empty demise?










It’s hard to speak when speaking waits
With tangled hearts and inky space
A thought, a-clutter, several mustered
So well delivered, they dam the river
Your words cannot spill out. 

They, sickly, sow fever and doubt. 
And the guttural sounds clot the river-route
So the wailing cannot break free. 
and the poison stirs
faster in me. 


broken bits; human beings wonder if
we’ll ever be fixed enough to seem
like heartache is not unraveling
the seams we stitch to break our bonds
funny how we tie those knots
specifically to free ourselves;
and yet the prison remains.

we are cracked and chipped like pottery
the lumpy turtle kilned in third grade;
Pork Chop the pig named by pigtails
and all the in between.
And yet more perfect still are we
than over-fired pottery;
humans were made by divine hands
so no matter how we crush ourselves
we can always be repaired.

Disastrous humanity

We write to still the waves that break us up deep inside
We write to mourn the lives of those who’ve gone so long ago
With every rhyme I say goodbye
To someone I never knew;

With every word I don’t deserve
To breathe while others bleed.
I hate my human skin
For the evils it’s witnessed
I hate my perfect eyes
For their clarity of sight
I hate my strong young bones
For their ability to fight

I hate the fact that I can afford
To cry over foolish boys
While men turned sour from hate and power
Destroy such precious lives.

I hate us all, I want the evil
To be imprisoned in their own bones
But love calls me to set healing free
And so my prayers encircle the world.

Panic, chaos in my chest

“Oh, my God
What awful fear is this?
What crippling terror stalks me
These sadistic, “but what ifs?”

I could not live without you
Lord, if you changed your mind
My soul would simply shatter
If your love withered with time

Help me, help me
Your servant is afraid
My soul is screaming pain
I fear life is drowning in this place
My heart is searing fire
You are calling—I hear you call
“Child, do you know me yet at all?”