October 11, 2017

then there is no reason left to be afraid

what will i lose by loving?
i murmured.

it murmured back.
but there is the possibility that it will hurt.

i can accept that.
it is a small price to pay
for something so important. 

it cautioned as i turned to leave
there is the possibility that you will not be loved in return.

that is not a problem.
i murmured.
as long as i can love.
what will i lose by loving?

it murmured back.

absolutely nothing.

thank you.
i breathed.
 i will set my hand to the plow
and i will love again.


has it really been so long? AAAHHH. love u peaches.

August 14, 2017

when you go

it was like walking back into a house you once lived in,
after finding it was sold.


i knocked anxiously on the door
and she greeted me with wide, laughing eyes.
come in. 
you used to live here?
that's incredible.
she had put pictures up on the walls, the kind with flowers and laughing people in them.
 why hadn't i thought of that?
but then, she meant to stay
and i had never felt that way.

we walked through all of the rooms,
looked into all of the corners,
and nothing was the same.
i was glad of that.
i was glad that nothing looked the same.
i was glad that i barely recognized it.

when i left, she put her hand on my arm.
and murmured
thank you.

and i heard what she did not say.

thank you for moving out
so that i could move in.
thank you for realizing that it was better
if you didn't stay.
thank you for
not coming back.

this is my home now
and you were never meant to live here.

he was waiting for me on the front porch,
and he had that lazy smile on. the one that spread over his face like 
raspberry marmalade.

you good?

i nodded.

good. you were brave. time for sandwiches.

i laughed, and we walked off, down the avenue and back to the road.
he had flowers in his pocket.
and i realized they were the last flowers i had planted at the old house,
before i left.
i pretended not to notice.
but i knew what it meant.

when you go
take your whole heart with you.


this smidge of writing was based off of healing, and the people that help you get there.

to the girl in the middle of cutting ties: 
my darling, it's okay. 
you need to do it. 
the love of Christ is mighty, and His mercy is tender. so you are free to go.

and when you go
take your whole heart with you.


August 3, 2017


it has been a privilege
to love you.

i sat in that truck bed and curved my spine against the metal.
when you know
you just know.

he tapped his hard knuckles against my heart and murmured
keep this soft.

she threw her brown arms around my neck and breathed
i'm going to love him even if he never loves back.

their bones creaked and their doors broke and they echoed
come rest here and be still.

and in the thunder, when the Face of the Almighty passed, i heard it whispered
oh, yes.
perfect love casts out fear
because in you
there will not be room for anything else.

and you.
i see you walking back up the road, where nobody else is going,
and i'm sorry.
because i burned some bridges, and tore up some crosswalks,
and flattened a highway
to say goodbye.

i had to.

i think maybe that's the wreck we're picking our way across,
trying to get back to the start.

but my dearest, this is not a goodbye. 
i'm going to let them in, and tell them to take off their shoes, and if they want to, i'll let them stay forever.
because i'm not too scared
to love again.
it's what He would do.

you'll be there too.
because you're mine.
and that's that.

and it has been a privilege
to love you.



July 10, 2017

to thomas

You helped me down the hill.
That’s the last, true memory I have. 

You reached up for me, all hardness and height and strength. 
And I took your hand, all warmth and softness and laughter. 
You helped me down. We never said a word. 

But that last moment, 
the one right before I let go 
and Time ripped us apart like two small leaves 
on a fierce, wide river; 
it lasted for years.

I gripped tighter. 

Did you feel it? 
Right before I let go? 
It’s because I knew. 
The Lord in His grace gave me a second sight, 
the one that makes everything go slow right before somebody leaves forever. 

I gripped onto your big, strong hand 
that swallowed my little one, 
soaking up the warmth and the way you loved me until we 
both let go.

And the feeling of your fingers slipping through mine 
was the best metaphor for saying goodbye that I have ever known. 

Whenever I write down that word, goodbye, it’s that moment. 
It’s our moment. 
It’s our last moment, physically slipping through our fingers.


i have just honestly not had any time to take pictures or think.
because i've been busy with beautiful things.
it's good to be busy with beautiful things.
(but i miss u all an awful lot.)