Posts Tagged: sorrow

The Things You Carried

Inspired by John 19.28-37 – When you go to the cross, will you take my shame? I’m living in leftover layers from my past, consumed by oceans of regret, caught up with what I should and should not have said

The Things You Carried

Inspired by John 19.28-37 – When you go to the cross, will you take my shame? I’m living in leftover layers from my past, consumed by oceans of regret, caught up with what I should and should not have said

Wading

Listen to this while reading My words are like honey, they stick to my teeth, to my fingertips They sink to the bottom of a glass, get gulped up in the quickness of drinking the speed of everything I don’t

Wading

Listen to this while reading My words are like honey, they stick to my teeth, to my fingertips They sink to the bottom of a glass, get gulped up in the quickness of drinking the speed of everything I don’t

Still Intact

Let my words be large, let them overflow because my Dreams are saturated and enlightened and I need to grab on to something now The man I love told me that my emotions are compulsive but my actions are methodical,

Still Intact

Let my words be large, let them overflow because my Dreams are saturated and enlightened and I need to grab on to something now The man I love told me that my emotions are compulsive but my actions are methodical,

When the clouds roll

There are large black crows outside of my window every morning and every evening, I catch a glimpse of them swooping past out of the corner of my eye It is strange outside, humid and muggy the clouds roll over

When the clouds roll

There are large black crows outside of my window every morning and every evening, I catch a glimpse of them swooping past out of the corner of my eye It is strange outside, humid and muggy the clouds roll over

The state of being subject

It’s rather interesting, the way that the days go from high to low to nothing really at all And the weather changes, and all of us people talk about it like the temperature owes us some kind of consistency and

The state of being subject

It’s rather interesting, the way that the days go from high to low to nothing really at all And the weather changes, and all of us people talk about it like the temperature owes us some kind of consistency and

something beautiful, something good

It’s moments before my twenty first birthday, the humid august air runs through the open body of my black 2002 cabrio convertible and I listen to the CD player spinning sounds of heartbreaking hymns I recently came into possession of

something beautiful, something good

It’s moments before my twenty first birthday, the humid august air runs through the open body of my black 2002 cabrio convertible and I listen to the CD player spinning sounds of heartbreaking hymns I recently came into possession of

patient stanzas

I’m thinking it shouldn’t be this easy, that you or I should say something wrong that the morning should turn to afternoon, and with the evening conflict will come I’m feeling it shouldn’t be enough, but I’m left wanting more

patient stanzas

I’m thinking it shouldn’t be this easy, that you or I should say something wrong that the morning should turn to afternoon, and with the evening conflict will come I’m feeling it shouldn’t be enough, but I’m left wanting more

sad stanzas

I was happy, and I just got sad again
hit me like a thunderstorm
Surprised by round, wet, rain drops
puddles rising up and flooding my feet

I’m slipping, or fearful of it
When I feel Joy I end up just waiting
for it to leave
It’s been a few weeks now, a long
month or so, and I’ve have this unshakable contentedness
but when will it loosen its grip?

sad stanzas

I was happy, and I just got sad again
hit me like a thunderstorm
Surprised by round, wet, rain drops
puddles rising up and flooding my feet

I’m slipping, or fearful of it
When I feel Joy I end up just waiting
for it to leave
It’s been a few weeks now, a long
month or so, and I’ve have this unshakable contentedness
but when will it loosen its grip?

Not a Draft

My own body had to stop me, time has been moving too quickly hours feel like minutes, and before I know it they are gone You are gone now And it’s odd now Stepping through reality like a daydream, there’s

Not a Draft

My own body had to stop me, time has been moving too quickly hours feel like minutes, and before I know it they are gone You are gone now And it’s odd now Stepping through reality like a daydream, there’s

A love poem

love and admiration are two very different things, their coexistence is not rare but it is distinct. I admire the way you allow your father to speak to you, even when each word strikes a nerve and resembles the early

A love poem

love and admiration are two very different things, their coexistence is not rare but it is distinct. I admire the way you allow your father to speak to you, even when each word strikes a nerve and resembles the early

the practicality of living during sadness, in the mundane

On the days that you can, Do Not Lose Yourself In The Mundane On the days that you can’t, still wake up, fix your bed make yourself breakfast, toast and eggs open the windows even if it’s hot, especially when

the practicality of living during sadness, in the mundane

On the days that you can, Do Not Lose Yourself In The Mundane On the days that you can’t, still wake up, fix your bed make yourself breakfast, toast and eggs open the windows even if it’s hot, especially when

years later

let my heart rest, although time runs through my fingers like liquid, or grains of sand although each moment gains momentum and my whole soul weighs heavy at the sound of silence, or the sound of her voice (I am

years later

let my heart rest, although time runs through my fingers like liquid, or grains of sand although each moment gains momentum and my whole soul weighs heavy at the sound of silence, or the sound of her voice (I am

Look Back

never thought it was a good idea to Look Back I’ve always known not to do it, I learned this when I was twelve and the outside was getting soaked and I knew it then that this place was not

Look Back

never thought it was a good idea to Look Back I’ve always known not to do it, I learned this when I was twelve and the outside was getting soaked and I knew it then that this place was not

lament II

I began to stretch out my lungs in a capacity to scream at God I was to write down every insecurity I have in this faith and then in those declarations He was to respond with gracious wisdom and insight,

lament II

I began to stretch out my lungs in a capacity to scream at God I was to write down every insecurity I have in this faith and then in those declarations He was to respond with gracious wisdom and insight,

falling people

unintentionally adjourned my own sorrow, dove into a tragedy that could never be forgotten, not today nor tomorrow and it was covered in smoke and billowing clouds dressed up in people, the colors of ours i did not mean to

falling people

unintentionally adjourned my own sorrow, dove into a tragedy that could never be forgotten, not today nor tomorrow and it was covered in smoke and billowing clouds dressed up in people, the colors of ours i did not mean to