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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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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