Maybe I’ll call him back once I’ve done everything I wanted to do: Once I’ve become a good person and apologized to my mother, Finished my homework and said a holy prayer, Watered my succulents and stretched my working limbs, Made my bed and picked up the crumbs of insecurity and Insatiable expectations rotting their way into the carpet. I’m sure he can smell the foul scent all the way through the receiver, All the way past the bullshit. I say I’m honest but I’m so full of bullshit. And I don’t know if he’ll stay put, but I know … Continue reading Grace

An Old Battle With Anxiety

Thud, thud, thud. There is a sound behind me, chasing me as the tips of branches scrape my cheeks, like a ballpoint pen carved into a dagger, scratching streaks of dirt and red wine into my skin that smell fresher than the happiness scrawled on my lips. And there is a breeze in the forest that places furrowed brows on my friendly façade and meets my eyes with dry tears and ever pounding footsteps. The soil is sinking beneath my feet, pulling me down like bubbles in a Jacuzzi that whisper, come here, you have never felt this at peace … Continue reading An Old Battle With Anxiety


Today I walked down a cliff. Today I looked at impulsion and kissed the mountain, left my sweet scent between the ridges. Today I am alive because of risk, dirt, and hands. Hands that grip jagged edges, hands to hold, hands that leave the cross. And I am handing over rocks that slip and profanities that ricochet, but not handing over my life to God, still nestled beneath my tongue and behind the fiery spirit that tells me I am sizzling with too much passionate fire for my Savior’s cool waters. And I am scared that my sins will be … Continue reading Testimony

Salt Culture

The voices behind me are so loud they Chase my feet with salty water, Rising to my ankles then to my knees I am in slow motion with each leap I take I am two feet behind I am drowning in their drunken voices I am their prey- I pray I learn how to swim but The water reaches my waist and Sounds become hands become growls Come here baby  I am drowning in water so salty My tears become the ocean. Continue reading Salt Culture