Rest where the garden holds seeds and waits to bloom. Water it with your tears, it’s as nourishing for new growth as rain. You look around and everything is barren. Long ago, you chopped each flower at the stem because you didn’t know when to stop giving. You’re tired now. It shows in the lines…

I’m grasping old memories as they slip through my fingers like sand. But I hate the beach and your ghost crashes through me like waves. Makes me feel like drowning because you never taught me how to swim. Saltwater fills my lungs and I hope it cleans the wound. I’ve been breathing in sad words…

I passed by a stranger and realized it was a mirror. She’s seems tired, but not exhausted. She has a different glow in her eyes, something strong and magnetic. Makes you feel safe. Something like familiarity. And although she looks young, you can tell she’s lived beyond her years- that girlhood was once everything until…

You’re working with broken hands. Not asking for help. Watch you shake and wonder how to make it stop. Growing up is lonely. It makes you feel isolated and proud and dismantled. What makes the ghost of you youthful? Now you’re full of shit. You’ve lived so many lifetimes and landed on the one you…

I’m always on my way home. Weaving through the thicket, except it’s merely a tree line of willows. They look sad too. I light a candle and hold my breath every time the flame dares to go out. I never liked the wind. Thunder is far enough away. We’re alright. We’re going to be just…

I can’t rebuild without collapsing so I leave the dismantled structure in pieces. This is my ribcage. It half heartedly protects me, but at least it tries. Nothing is perfect. Few things are permanent. I know the intentions to protect me are pure, but I can’t trust the ground where it gives. I can’t step…

You’re running out of fuel. You crossed the path that leads back from the highway. You smoked your last cigarette. It’s snowing in April and you’re wearing shorts. You pass the house you grew up in and wonder if the new owners treat it like something holy. Your hands shake and that feeling starts in…

This is how you rebuild before breaking. Crush the dirt in between your fingers. Feel the earth in its rawest form. It turns to ashes. You combust. Pieces of you scatter across every place that once held a moment you care deeply about. You sink into it all and rest for winter. Spring comes with…

This morning nostalgia crept through the window pane. It lingered in the shadow of the sunlight that landed on my face. I took the first breath of Spring and held it in my lungs for safekeeping. Felt the saltwater behind my eyes dare to give. I held it back for a while until waves crashed…

If I saw Jesus I hope he’d smile. Laugh at my humor. Hold my palms and say he’s happy with my efforts. I’d collapse in a field of flowers and he’d let me rest. A kind of slumber I could never know on this earth. I’d wake up to everyone I have ever loved and…