Lit And On Fire

It’s okay to be weak, to not have things figured out, to be so lost you can’t make heads or tails of anything. No one has it all together, or can say they have the answer to everything. It’s not shameful to want to curl up in a ball and shut the world out. There will be moments, several of them, that would catch you by surprise, revelations that could knock you off your feet, and truths you’ll have a hard time wrapping your mind around. Don’t ever feel the need to face everything head-on right away. Allow yourself to pause, to let the barage of soul-crushing pain, disappointment, and puzzlement overtake you. Feel their weight against your back, the way they cause your knees to buckle, your breath to catch, and your heart to constrict and tighten within your chest as though it would break but wouldn’t. Oh how you’d wish it would just shatter so you could pick up the pieces and start over! Embrace them all. Let them sweep through you like a hurricane, run you over like a tidal wave, a

Beauty of God that shines from within Holiness and truth that come from Him Mercy and grace that on you are adorned Make you the beauteous one that He formed Lovely and precious to His eyes you are Bringing delight to your Father’s heart Beloved to Him, you can rest in His care You can find all you need; He will always be there Beloved – it means in His arms He will carry Your burdens, your life, your all if you tarry Beloved – it means His arms are wide open It goes beyond words; His love heals the broken Beloved – it means you can overcome all For His love is your fuel, your weapon, your call Beloved – it means you are whole and complete No lack is in you, every need He will meet Beloved – it means that His might is in you To accomplish great things He has destined for you Beloved – it means you are called "warrior child" Whose spirit is power and love and sound mind Beloved, be strong in the Lord and arise His glory,

Someday you will meet someone who will know everything about you. How you bawled your eyes out when Mufasa died. How you hid in the basement closet with your imaginary friend. How you waved at planes that flew over your backyard and imagined you were riding one all the way to Themyscira. How your dreams would play out like a sci-fi movie. How at 4 years old you walked 3 miles from school to home by yourself because you got tired of waiting for the person who was supposed to pick you up. How you like tuna melt sandwiches but not tuna and tomato sauce but not tomatoes; or that you love the crust more than the pizza. How you like to grill your steak well done and your rice (and meat) a little burnt because they taste better that way. How you felt a void when you said goodbye to Hermione, Ron, and Harry. How you love the sight of a clean house, with all things in their proper places but hate doing house chores. How you hold your tongue at political debates or sports a

Butter on toast with a side of freshly scrambled eggs An evening downpour with flashes of lightning and thunder A dog’s wet and furious kisses A smile Black coffee, cheesecake Puffy clouds hiding the sun Blind curves and sharp corners A touch A guitar, a camera, a playlist Warm brownie cup with vanilla ice cream Miles and rice cakes A hug Sweet yellow mangoes and sticky rice Sand, wind, ocean Flipflops and goggles A kiss Early morning walks and bike rides Three little monkeys jumping on my bed Lazy afternoons A home

Once in a... I look at you and wonder When will you reveal your secret? I ponder your beauty and think If only I could pluck you off the sky Put you in a small box And carry you around in my pocket Or wear you on a chain around my neck So you can hear the questions I can't ask And give me answers you can't say out loud Then maybe I can have a part of you That will never be someone else's Maybe you would be less of a puzzle And more of a solid certainty You would be down here, full and whole Instead of up there, a silver sliver of light Barely there, almost gone While I wait till you come back around But I'll wait, blue moon Always... till you come back around

The void, it listens To words I scream out Wishes I utter Silent cries I shout The moon, a witness Sees the tears that fall The stars though silent The truth, it knows all Easy, it is not To hold all this pain To keep all this hurt A constant refrain Secrets I contain Musings I can’t share But please understand It’s because I care Cell of suffering I need to leave thee I need to cry out I need to be free

You could be her, little one. The girl with the perfect hair, who can drink coffee and not spill a single drop on her white dress, wear 6-inch stilettos and not trip, and put on makeup like a pro; you may not be her.  The girl with the perfect smile, who can write poems that make even the most unromantic swoon, hit the notes to a Whitney Houston song with the acuracy of Whitney herself, and dance like Beyonce; you may not be her.  The girl with the perfect personality, who says all the right words at the right time, cracks jokes that everybody finds funny, and is the life of any party; you may not be her.  The girl with the perfect attitude, who is never affected by the hurtful words of people who could care less about the feelings of others, is never peeved by inconsiderate commuters on the subway, and is never annoyed at reckless drivers on the highway; you may not be her.  But... The girl with puffy eyes in the morning because she spent the night cryin

fight the battles that face you now don't run away and don't be cowed once you win this one, though scarred you will be brought much closer to your star the struggle is not really a necessity if you put on the armor that you carry march on the path and leave your fear your shield is your faith, your mission is clear stand your ground, unsheathe your sword take aim and advance like never before the wind is on your back; unfurl your wings you can take on what the future brings whatever you encounter here today prepares you for things to come anyway so always brace yourself, at all times be ready be vigilant and watch out for the enemy be still and know that you are not one if all your courage is harnessed by the sun you are chosen and you will surely win know that and be strengthened from within

This is not a poem about love A poem like that would ask “How can I bottle your laughter? Or take your smile to go?” “Will you let me hold your hand? Or look in your eyes and know?” This is not a poem about love Such a one would say “My home is where you lay your head Your heartbeat is my song” “The tears you shed, I’ll dry them My arms for you, are strong” This is not a poem about love Those verses they would sing Of early morning breakfasts And sunrises by a wooded dell Of mood swings in the winter time And making up with a story to tell This is not a poem about love Highs and lows they’d flow With dreams and hopes of forever Through thick and thin they’re standing With promises of brighter days For richer or poorer they’re dancing