It hurts to know I

Wasn’t enough;

And the rivers I cried may as well

Have been blood;

For the hurting they brooked

Was as deep as a wound;

And my streams now have dried

to evaporate you.

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there is now a song

it sings in tones of spider-thread

it wanders up and down the Pain…

The song is caught in a timeless place,

where the hurting worsened ’til it grew a face;

and the face is blank and its eyes are dead;

& wilted blossoms frame the head;

beautiful, but also gone.

just like us.

i wrote us a song.

Jealous love

I miss your love, your kindness

Gentleness

And Peace

I miss the way you cared for me

The softness with which you treated me

It hurts like knives in my stomach to let go

I have to trust that God is just

That he wants for me what I cannot

Even

Fathom

I know He is jealous for me…

And will hold me as I weep

Sudden

I’m still haunted

By how I held your face in my hands;

Grizzled, gray, eyes cloudy with unsight

And said “never leave me, ok? Never die. Live

Forever”

And the very next day

I woke up to your seizure; to your confusion; I remember

how you didn’t know me

And I knew it was time

To say goodbye.

water-walking

I wander through unknowns, shivering valleys and deeper lows

My dreams reflect the darkness new- but somehow light is shimmering too

I find myself awash in breath, a consolation in the land of death…

What waits beyond I do not know. A lonely hall dipping dark and low. I will not find what I expect-

But the Lion of Judah, prowling ahead.

Self inflicted

We sometimes want what will not help…

We seek the lights that will melt our hands

Fingers stretching to touch the gold;

Grasping flames not meant to hold…

We sometimes trust what is always wrong…

Freeing floods deeper than our souls,

Lamenting as we cannot float

Cries for mercy cut off by mill-stones

We trap ourselves then weep for home.

Island

I do not need to make all things so real

In an effort to anchor, I let everything

Feel

Personal, true

It’s crazy, it subdues

How can one person bear the weight of a billion wrongs?

How can two trembling hands

count the words of endless songs?

Two bony shoulders cannot straighten under the weight

Of every single human beings’ worst moment and mistake.

I must stop anchoring myself to loss

To suffering, and breakage, and torment without cause.

What business have I to empathize

With every one at once?

If I do not break to clean my faith

It will crumble, like dust, all at once.