Let

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Let flowers protect me as I sleep
in this chaos; May their beauty
and peace fill my lungs with
every breathe. Though I may still
wake in this storm, let their colours
fill my dreams with hope

Rising Dust

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I hit a hammer
against a wall today,
expecting my love
for you to crumble
as the dust fell,
except,
when all had
settled and the wall
had gone, I was the
one to collapse,
for my love was
still there, only,
you were gone.

This Pressure 

img_1431I wish you had met me when these wounds were just stories and the scars just traces of life.

And so I am sorry for this chaos within me that leaks from my soul to bring strife.

This pressure is heavy and my back is breaking from the past that cuts like a knife.

I wish you had met me when these wounds were just stories and the scars just traces of life.

A Question on Faith

_MG_7853-1How am I to carry the weight of all these questions within my soul, and still go about calmly, as if the earth did not seem a great void of endless mystery? However, this mystery isn’t a particular kind of one, easily solved by a few hours of careful consideration and paperwork. No, this mystery goes beyond my own sight, and it is I in the midst of it all. This whole question involves God, family, love, theology, Christianity, religion, relationships, sin, millennials, technology, the internet, writing, beliefs, and everything else in life. I was recently told I was a “deep thinker” and that is why I struggle so much with what others around me seem to accept blindly. (Or, I should say, it appears blindly through my skeptic sight), but I believe I struggle because not only am I a deep thinker, but I am also an endless feeler. If I think about hell, the devil, sin, I feel all of those things. It can be unbearable at times. How does one study theology and not live in a constant state of fear? There surely is very little we can actually prove we are right on, am I do dedicate my life to that? Yes, I suppose I have already made my decision to believe in the God of the Bible, but I suppose now, but fear is, does God believe in me?

We Are Seeds

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You can call us dirt,
but the flowers grow
from even the darkest
of soils. So water us with
words of rain, it’ll only
feed the seed within,
causing us to bloom
towards the sun. You
could try to pick us,
but our roots will grow
deeper then the
wounds that you’ve
caused.