Displaced but not Misplaced
Displace: to move, shift, or force from the usual place or position Misplace: to put into a wrong place These past few months have been a time of reflecting on just how much
home.
i want to know home, climb its staircase and open its cabinets, wash its windows and open its blinds, unlock its safety and close off abandon i wonder, do the floorboards creek in
still
trees sway in no breeze      no gust or sweet push     where has wind gone out of a body     once so full     it has found     no home from     whence to blow yet these trees
I am...
Tender. I was sitting in a counseling session not too long ago and after sharing some information, I heard words I had never heard anyone use when describing me. I heard "she is
Die to Self | Live for Christ
Blog
I grew up in church and have heard the term "die to self" many times. I have even read it in the bible. I don't think I have ever been in a place
Not Okay | It is Okay
Poetry
All spilled out Emptied and void Taken and given in the same breath What is left? when the world told me to smile, i smiled. when the world told me to jump, i
moving
Poetry
how does the wind know where to blow? who showed the ocean how to dance and greet? when did the trees learn to bow? who gave birds the knowledge to soar? how did
Letting Go
Blog
The above picture is a pile of two notebooks and an unnumbered stack of poems I have written. Poems from 2010 up until recent years. Two days ago I grabbed my poetry binder
Bridges
Poetry
Connection route Some are meant to be broken     Some merge new possibilities     Others are reminders of hurt Leading us over obstacles Guiding us through struggles     We never seem to take the ones that
(Untitled)
Blog
I struggle with being needed. More specifically, I struggle with measuring my worth and my usefulness by how much I am needed or not needed. I am sure this is not a struggle
building blocks
these pieces look to me for direction. positioning themselves where they feel they belong. square edges don't fit in round corners. smooth brushes against rough. something is out of place. while another is
In the Dark
When it is dark outside I do not like to drive. I become anxious and drive too close to the steering wheel. One time in particular, I was driving around 5 am and
why here? why now?
Poetry
the ground not as uncomfortable as expected. pieces of a story lie about. sometimes catching a breath of a passerby and dancing on the clouds. a short distance covered by a single breath.
What Do I Want More Than Freedom?
I realized a few days ago that I sometimes want to be sad and when given an opportunity to leave my sadness, I choose to stay. Why might I want to stay in

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