For me,
Writing is like praying
in the middle of a tragedy.
When the world has cracked upon.
When something breaks
that words can't fix,
but must weave them together.

Tragedy doesn't ask for beauty,
Only truth.
Even if that truth is trembling,
Fragmented,
Barely breathing
on the page.

The blank document becomes a place
where I can speak
to something
or someone
without needing a reply,
Without having to explain myself,
Without apologizing
for the mess of it all.

Some people write to move on.
I write to stay,
to sit behind these ruins
and whisper:
"I saw this,
It mattered.
It hurts like hell."
And in those moments
writing about lost love
or people who are gone
but never truly absent
something shifts.

I find GOD there,
or maybe GOD finds me
in the wreckage.
Not in thunder,
not in easy answers,
but in that quiet breath
between one word and next
In the space where honesty lives.

Some people laugh,
but they’re hurting inside.
They say, “I’m fine,”
with tears they hide.
So always be gentle,
you never quite know,
who’s faking the light
while feeling the low.

people have their god
               and
people have their no god
               but
neither has solid proof
                nor
the definitive answer
               only
what they truly believe in
                and
they’re so sure of themselves
               that
they’ll defend and protect their beliefs
                  if
any differences are shouted at them
                 and
they’ll hold and cradle their beliefs
               tightly
like a security blanket
                 and
they’ll preach their beliefs
                  to
any pair of ears they come across
                  it’s
the never-ending game
           straddling
the on-going centuries
                  if
you have god, go with god
                and
                  if
you have nothing, go with nothing
                 just
leave me the hell out of it:
your beliefs
      my beliefs
          his beliefs
             her beliefs
               their beliefs
                 were never a certainty.