Look in the mirror.
What do you see?
I see a girl smiling back at me.
With sad, tired eyes
that screams of insecurity.
I see who I am
And in the reflection, I realized
I do not like what I see.
I see a wretched being
with a scarred past,
full of lies and lust,
and grief and anger,
and sorrow and distrust,
and wounds
that never healed fast.
I see a liar,
a cheat,
a master manipulator,
people-pleaser,
pretender,
a great actor,
putting up
a sweet,
gentle,
soft-spoken,
prim and proper front,
but living the life
of a desperate
******* by the well.
A scarlet letter in disguise.
Present day Magdalene.
Tamar,
ravaged,
broken,
defiled,
bruised,
bleeding,
de­ad.
Worthless.
Wearing a mask of a strong warrior,
everything alright.
Silver tongue,
knows all the right words
and how to say them.
But behind the mask
is a broken,
scared little girl
too conscious of her glaring,
blazing,
flashing neon light,
flaws:
ugly,
fat,
unworthy,
undeserving,
disgraced.
I see an ungrateful woman
given grace,
only to rebel
again
for the hundredth time.
I hung my head and closed my eyes,
shame creeping in my heart.
I heard my reflection call my name.
"Look up.
Look at me once again."
And I did.
Because there is something
about the voice,
something so gentle,
so compelling,
so attractive,
and warm
that I couldn't resist
but follow it.
A tender voice full of love.
A voice that made me feel
known,
fully known,
and still accepted.
A voice so full of love
it quieted the shame.
I looked up
and saw myself.
Basked in a glorious light
that isn't mine.
Shining so bright.
Radiating beauty
that didn't come from me.
I saw myself
clothed in white,
pure and holy,
and pleasing to the eyes.
No longer a wraith.
I looked
and saw myself
through my Savior's eyes:
a princess,
a royal priesthood,
a bride,
a daughter,
a warrior.
Chosen and cleansed.
I looked and saw myself
but the face on the mirror
was my Savior's face.
It was His beauty I radiated,
His light I shone.
He exposed my flaws
and revealed that in Him
I am a new creation.
I am a new creation.
Even if I don't see it sometimes,
I am a new creation.

i love the smell
of a cool crisp morning,
when the rains have fallen
and the cracks in the pavement
are still wet,
and the trees
wave silently in the gentle breeze,
as the birds flit among the branches.

What are bra straps anyway?
just things to wrap around a young man's mind
to blind him to necessity.

But she,
Oh
She binds me in her chords using staves as swords and my words though picturesque are not so blessed.
her music hits me sweetly,
skips across my skin and frees the colours which begin
to drop,
dripping from within,
without her there is no sound,
no heart to beat,
nothing sweet,
necessity I meet head on but
nothing to meet if she is gone
and the young man in me becomes
the old man unfree.

I was, “then,” – when you found your voice.
I was, “there” – By trip come broken lace.
So it’s “there,” where bravado’d gallant, and
“There,” where time flipped tricks, and theatre
Prior regret. Previous want and wary brow,
More importantly, ‘fore we’d ever remember.

Perhaps and only precursory,
The single bead of sweat, making way,
Later tear, and forever’d a tale,
From forehead unto sacred navel.
So the story goes, blasphemous and becoming,
After us, after, “one” and later, returning to,
“One,” again, this singularity of sorts.

I’d wallow, “after,” wherein we succumbed,
So much like the rest of the world –
Under, “soil,” under spotlight, under scrutiny;
Somehow ill from our mutual ******,
But even more so, the anesthetic consumed
Hours early and promise come one walk home.

More importantly, though, I am, “now,” stuck,
Stalled, dripped with fear, downing one beer,
After another beer, after another, after another,
And in reconciliation ‘for your maintained halo.
I’d wanted away, achieved a block, fell short,
Yet still, I somehow remain, a first – committed,
Whilst you dreamt that I’d never look back.

Do you hear that sound?
The wind
Whistling through closed blinds
Drifting into your ears
Burning your eyes
Stimulating your mind
Days behind dance
Driven by unrequited
Painful
And provocative romance
Hollowing your eardrums
And pitting your chest
It's quiet
But so loud
I wish I could understand

Standing here, between two walls
Doors, unnumbered, crowd the hall
Behind each door a secret kept
Of fears, of lies, of tears been wept
Portals each to different worlds
Lessons learned from little girls
Listen as the truth unfolds
Tales untold of a *wounded soul