i often find her cowering in the corner like a beaten rag doll… limbs torn, dress in shreds, heart barely beating… leaning in close i long to hear her breathe:[scream]… she is screaming, it burns my ears… heated air… rage is found once again, though i swore we had buried it together more than six feet deep beneath our scored fabric… power is sobering, as are circumstances brought forth by choices made when life:[death] began… indecisiveness breeds consequence wrapped in stab wounds… we found God & grace:[fire & brimstone]… there is anguish sewn into our checkerboard soul, nightmares bombard our seams… curses sent forth to the heavens while lobbing stones & obscenities to my King of Kings as i wonder in desperation – why me… strength is not my gift, nor courage… my battle armor shattered long ago when a vow made penetrated without permission… He speaks to me, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”… long ago He brought peace to oceans of disbelief… i pronounced a claim over fear more than 1000 days before this day… maybe, i am tired:[dead] to His quiet voice… my mind races into hers, we become each other… starved for a touch… we struggle against ourselves in a sophisticated storm of knowledge hard earned… thunder is insistent as we await the next lightning strike… she & i sit in the open field – daring Thor to drop his hammer, slow & staggering through our layers of doubt & corruption…

04.22.2013

[me]

i threw the stone watched it land on 1+2=3… it used to be so easy believing in me:[in You], in a world of chalk & dust… i’ve lost my eraser or used it too much… my feet are planted firmly in faith:[jumping over the cracks to avoid breaking someone else’s back]… footprints are left behind – some soft, some harsh… i am dizzy from spinning in square 4 waiting for doors to close & open wide:[arms & legs], doorknobs hurt when thrust into the abdomen of complacency…

feel it, feel it, feel it - - - - - -  fucking feel it

pinholes only show so much of the coming horizon… sunset & sunrise continue even as i linger with one foot in twilight’s shadows… my prayer closet is then located in the triangle of 5 though it only contains 3:[my Father, Son, & Holy Ghost]… an army - though it feels i wage the war alone, knees landing on pavement… i embrace the bleed… tears washing away the end of 1, the beginning of 9 & 10… cleanse me, move me again…

broken is home, broken is home

shift my weight into purpose, like an 8 wrapped in infinity:[everlasting]… pierce my prayers as i cling to all Your promises once made… deny my lackluster prophecies sifting through each hop & skip… this trip to Bailey’s Beads may be to fill the gaping hole in my imperfection… therefore, i am willing to throw my stones in hope…

04.09.2013

[me]