57/365
when the trumpet sounds
and when heaven appears
we just might see it’s been here waiting
for thousands and thousands of weeks
for us to let go and breathe
heaven doesn’t come
when your lungs are closed
when your heart doesn’t beat
heaven doesn’t come
when you let her tell you
what your soul doesn’t believe
i want to know that when the air arrives
when the lightning strikes
that the grey in my eyes
was fear
was fear
was fear
i want to know that we’ve always been free
that the weight was just me
that the shame was just everything
he told his daughter out of
his fear
his fear
his fear
heaven doesn’t come
when the skin is weak
when the sadness seeps
through everything we’re trying for
heaven doesn’t come
when you let her tell you
what your eyes can’t see
when words are many
our god, he weeps
when guilt is heavy
our god, he cries
i want to know
that the lies are asleep
that we are the ones
shaking them from their dreams
i want to know that my heart,
my child,
the angel you gave me
still sees
the face of my father
our father
in heaven
oh heaven, please show us
you’ve come.
55/365
it is when we are most expecting to feel,
that we feel the
least
and, feeling
broken and,
numb
concern threatens and,
we seek a comfort
and, then
in the midst of skin raised
a clouded mind
expectation lost and,
the return of our humanity -
we discover that this
is where we feel
most
hallelujah.
54/365
“Nothing bad has ever come out of love, you know” he said.
“Heartbreak does. Every time.” She squinted at him, even though he was fingertips away. ”Always,” she tacked on, with a note of warning in both syllables.
“Heartbreak isn’t from love. It’s from a lack of it.”
53/365
i’ve got another life
that i love like
i love myself
like i loved you
like i loved the baby
like i loved my childhood
like i loved the family dinner table
like i loved
us all
but we call it a dream,
you know?
cause
ungrace steals
all the grace
that makes things real
and we call it a dream,
you know?
cause
you couldn’t
he couldn’t
i couldn’t
we couldn’t make it
if we stared at
our
your
her
his
their
my
grave.
and it breaks me
it does.
always
it takes me
it does.
always
and i see you breaking, always
it does.
because he’s taking, always.
i blame him
but they say to blame you too
but i’m stubborn
like you always said
and
so
i blame the devil
cause we’re all starving
and buying
and dreaming
and killing
for all the grace that
makes
things
real.
52/365
leaving
in fear
then
leaving
in hope
then
leaving
in certainty
while calling
while crying
still gone, still without
but
still
leaving.
love
aches
‘but you don’t love’, they say
calling
writing
trying
persevering
is
hope.
// persevere. 33 words. / /
50/365
my god i’ve felt it’s weight since
the day i’ve wanted to be free
it’s all around my ankles
and it’s tangling my feet
but i just can’t see it as the dead i know it is
cause it all just talks right back at me
and i just don’t know how you see what’s dead
in all that cries out, ‘i am free.’
49/365
peel perfection from your eyes
squint to see the sun
there is beauty to be seen
when you desire to become un-blind
48/365
lay down your loneliness
yes, put it to the side
i want to show you
that you’re in love with a dying girl
your nails are digging deep into your own skin
prying debris from a wound that isn’t real
you’re in love
you’re in love
with a girl who no longer breathes
and
this
is
why
you
feel
alone
46/365
18 years and
8 years into
bruising you should have seen around my heart
you sure did compare yourself
a lot
to her
for one that is dying by the religion of ‘one flesh’
like you swallowed whole a love you didn’t want
to, couldn’t
look in the eye
now her heart beats under yours while
you beat death into life she’s given
to you
45/365
i saw death enter
every single door
and slip under what was locked
this is why i left and leave and leave again
i just wanted to leave
but you just wanted to fight
you demanded an answer
when all i knew was
i don’t know
i would have come home
did you know that?
i would have come home if
you hadn’t painted the road with
our blood
i would have come home if you hadn’t made me lock the gate.
44/365
i still remember
they cut down the trees you loved
i sketched them out from my bedroom window
with the ordered numbers of their deaths
one
thru
four
so you
you would never have to forget
did you grow tired of having to forget?
