Small frame, little life

Bearing the weight of centuries

Alone, unwanted

Made to embody sadness


Scarred skin, pitted

From words cast like stones

My ugly face unhidden

Is there beauty in my pain?


Ears still listening

Waiting for that divine intervention

Waiting to be told I am special

Will I wait forever?





When life rains down without care

beats upon your back

until the raw skin blisters, it festers

faceless everyone says it will make you stronger.

They say you are being pushed

change is good, new direction

this crushing pain upon you will be worth it

push on, climb higher, nevermind the warfare.

Their words are heard, taken to heart,

You agree, but never see

This light ahead that they talk about

And you wonder what they had to do without

And you’d gladly run a new way

work harder, give more

But you can’t ditch this anger

And you wager that your life will never change

Because this push that they talk about

They can’t live without

You can’t see with your own eyes

Even when you try, you are blind

And you start to wonder

Were you left behind on purpose?

Did you miss something important

when you learned to navigate this life

That rage, it never fades

Because you know that they made you this way

That gleam in your eyes, they stole it

That dream in your heart, they crushed it

They told you to be realistic, never feel

That your dreams would never be real

They took your free will, obedient tool

All in the name of modern education

Now you’re grown up and they’re waiting

For you to be great, for the earth to quake

To hear the toll of your greatness

And the weight of expectation falls all on you

And even though you’re strong

and you stand out of the crowd

You can’t move up ’cause you don’t know how

To shine when no one’s giving directions

And no matter how hard you try

to shake this obedience, the fear, and the panic

You can’t because you trained your whole life

To wait for orders on a mapless path

Now your life is ruled by chaos

And just when it all seems lost

You realize that you survived

Because you’re strong and all along

Your friends were rooting for you because they knew

You could pull through

And even though you were surrounded

By wolves in sheep’s clothing

Disguised as teachers, friends, and preachers

You made it to the other side

And you realize

No one has a map and you know

It’s time to write your own.

He left me waiting in the crumbling tower

Delighting in my willingness to let everything slip away for him

Keeping me a peasant when I was destined to be a queen.

Laughing as the dragon grew restless and the light in me dimmed.


Bereft of words, I lay silent, waiting for him to save me.

Willing him to slay the dragon and let me out of my stone prison.

Pouring myself into this one wish.

Letting the light leave my eyes as uncertainty reigned.


On the day he slew the dragon, he lied.

Gallantly kneeling before me with hollow promises of forever

His face breaking into a beguiling grin

He only pretended to save me.


I clung to my hope, a new kind of prison

A suspicion growing in my heart,

Anxiety drowning my reason.

The dragon was he.


In a last cruel act, he took flight,

Circling above and relishing in my misery

Hoping to watch me crumble

Expecting to see me fall.


But I have had enough!

I am not the lowly creature he believes me to be.

The fire inside me ignites

I will fly higher than he.


In my place among the stars, I am a queen

A wondering heart will ever I be.

Stronger now than ever I’ve been.

All along the heroine was me.




Do you see them in the wind?

The chilly lost souls.

The forgotten ones

The world claims does not exist.

Have you heard them wail?

In a language from beyond the veil.

Attempting to convey one simple truth.

I am well.

They are the invisible world

The shimmering hyper real to which we once belonged

But the cruel hands of the Them

have blinded our unaware eyes

That chasm inside you

That longs to be a part of something greater

Can never be filled

Until you open your eyes

And return home.

Listening to Books

I began three books this weekend. My attention span really is at an all time low. Bird.

I had just opened the cover of a new book, relishing the smell of printed pages, the feel of the paper against my fingertips, and the rush of being on the edge of a story, happily waiting to fall in. The book’s voice was friendly, childlike without being cloying. Honest without being brutal.

My heart clenched in happiness, for it has been many a day since I felt the soul of a book. Attending a university was as thrilling as it was imprisoning. While learning new skills and expanding my horizons, it was rather like forcing your foot into a shoe that doesn’t quite fit. It’s what’s expected, but it is not comfortable, a lot of you is hidden, and you leave a little bit behind. After the vigorous experience, I had little space in my mind for wonder or imagination. The characters who had once accompanied me throughout every moment of the day, stood scared in the darkest reaches of my mind, raw after the harsh criticism they had been subjected to in writing class.

I don’t like being told how to be.

I digress. Squirrel.

After the wonderful, terrifying, foundation altering experience that was college, the books lay silent. Even when I no longer felt completely burnt out, and mustered the courage to open a cover, the pages didn’t so much as whisper. Books and I were no longer friends. The words no longer effortlessly painted vivid images in my mind. I had to concentrate to bring a shimmering mirage to the surface, a hollow ghost of what I had once seen.

But finally, out of the dark years I was drawn. Learning to be happy for me and for no one else. Learning to gaze upon the world with wide eyes once more. Finally, the books began to whisper.

It was subtle at first, and a little painful. Like talking to a friend you once knew, but suddenly found that their name had been on the knife in your back. The books were untrusting, fully aware that I was about to analyze them. They were timid, and so was I, worried that I had forever lost a piece of who I was.

This book was loud. Not an unpleasant sort of loud, but the sort of loud that fills the mouths of friends when they are nearing the end of another glass of wine. This book was eager to share its story. This book was generous.

As my eyes hungrily roved the pages, a sense of home returned. Wherever this part of me had hidden, it was no more, and I rejoiced, fully immersing myself in another world, happy to be the victim of this book.

My enemy was fear. Fear that in a moment my focus would change, and I would lose myself again in the world of necessity and want. The fear tremulously knocked upon every door in my mind, echoing and threatening to overwhelm. Bravely, I fought my way deeper into the book, refusing to return to the mundane. Eventually, the knocking stopped, and I stood before a great calm sea. Free of my shackles, small in a great world I did not understand. I liked it that way.

Soon the rest of the books followed. I greedily memorized their personalities, thirsty for the sweet nectar of their stories.

I was once more surrounded by friends I had thought had abandoned me. Dustfinger and Bastian and Hermionie. Suzie and Meggie and Eben. Cwlwch and Olwen and Beowulf. I embraced my apparent external solitude and reentered the hallowed hall of my imagination, the heroes of old waiting to welcome my return.

The frigid grasp of winter kept at bay

Warmth radiates from the grumbling beast

Caressing chilly toes

Outside the wind moans

Alone and forgotten and unwelcome

Inside the hungry beast growls

Eating more and more

The stack is gone and only bits of bark remain

The house is dark and quiet

The beast’s growls grow quiet

The glow within him dims

Finally when the moon is high and stars are bright

The grumbles cease in silence

The glow evanesces.

The fire is out.


I’m thankful for the birds, the bees

I’m thankful for my cat, the trees

I’m thankful for the things I see

I’m thankful for the rolling seas.


I’m thankful for the green grass grows

I’m thankful for the doggie’s nose

I’m thankful for the wind that blows

I’m thankful for the winter snows.


I’m thankful for the mice that crawl.

I’m thankful for the Southern drawl.

I’m thankful for Texas, y’all.

I’m thankful for it all.


I’m thankful for the raindrops’ pings.

I’m thankful for the bird that sings.

I’m thankful for what life brings.

I’m thankful for the little things.