This Box

This box wasn’t meant for me,

So I’m getting out.

Yes, I’m getting out…

This box that has been molded by the world.

From their words and perspectives,

Along with opinions and interjections.

From years of criticism,

And disappointments…

From ideas that have been thrown out and put back in,

Over and over.

From self-defeating thoughts that have kept me from looking out.

And all the expectations that held me in,

Because of fears of failing.

So I bothered not to try.

The walls of lies that said I wasn’t good enough to be on the outside,

And kept me hostage from creatively thinking of my own way out.


Beyond the Branches

Clarity seems a little lost,

When insecurities block out the green, block out the light.

She is not the words,

Spoken from the place of loneliness.

She lets her tears fall down gently,

And lets them spread among the seeds,

Into the places that need more nurturing,

Into the space that grows with grace.

Her roots yearn for intimacy,

And the rain that pours is so sweet.

Although, she gets but a taste.

The lingering affection offers healing,

As her hope is restored in a tomorrow,

Hiding beyond the branches.


I am made of porcelain.

Everyone has a breaking point.

Some of us are fortuanate, depending on how you look at it, to experience more than one.

The first time you shattered,

You believed in miracles.

The second time,

Everything gets questioned.

I can’t apologize for not diving into your lake of sorrow,

When I am experiencing a sorrow all of my own.

This sorrow is deep,

And dark…

When death seems merrier than being alive,

I become afraid.

I become distant.

My porcelain skin is now revealed.

The surface can only be stranded together for so long,

And we all know,

When a crack has formed,

It spreads all too quickly.

The Bottoms of My Feet

Ah, love.

It isn’t meant to be perfect.

In fact the messier,

The more real.

Because real love is vulnerability,


And transparancy of doubts,

And flaws and insecurities,

Along with all things good,

Of course…

But messy it is,

Just like the wooden floors

I walk on.

Leaving the bottoms of my feet with grit.

So I sweep it up,

But it won’t be long until the clean floors are dirty once again,

But that’s what we do,

We try to control something,


We think we are fixing when we sweep the filth underneath a rug,

Or worse…

Into a closet that we forbid to be opened.

And then we wonder where it went?

Thank God for Gravity

Thank God for gravity,

For its keeping me on this ground.

Preventing me from floating up,

To a place that seems more sound.

And when I do the thing I don’t want to do,

You say I’m still here,

And when I say the words I dont mean to say,

You say I’m still here.

Thank God for the foundation,

That was formed from pain and tears,

Because in moments of uncertainty,

I hear the voice that calms the loudest fears.

And when I do the thing I don’t want to do,

You say I’m still here,

And when I say the words I dont mean to say,

You say I’m still here.

Thank God for forgiveness,

Because it is the only thing that makes sense.

Everyone struggles with this life,

We all deserve a fighting chance.

And when I do the thing I don’t want to do,

You say I’m still here,

And when I say the words I dont mean to say,

You say I’m still here.

The Runner

Running in circles,

No sense of direction,

Pride’s got a grip,

She can’t stand deep reflection.

It’s like walking on glass,

But I always stomp away,

And when the glass starts to crack,

I jump even harder,

And she shatters and breaks.

She hardens her heart just a little more,

Acting as though she hasn’t a care,

But the crease in her forehead doesn’t tell many lies…

I tell her I love her,

But she just rolls her eyes,

She turns away from gentleness,

And affection is like a disease.

I want to pull her close,

But she is a runner,

That is where she longs to be.

So run like the wind,

Don’t be afraid to be you.

I see boldness,

And braveness,

By watching the races you’ve already gotten through.

You are strong,

Don’t listen to the lies,

For freedom comes when you realize,

That the faces in the stands have not been against you,

But have always been on your side.