Just to be honest

On nights like this
I feel like I could quite possibly
die trying
to be special
(chosen)
While all of my efforts
only result
in heaps of foolishness
of being not chosen
once again.
And I am the creep
slinking around in the background
Pounding fists into heaps of laundry
with echos that are never heard.

the part that always makes me cry

"Love, a question
has destroyed you.

I have come back to you
from thorny uncertainty.

I want you straight as
the sword or the road..."

From the poem: The Question
By: Pablo Neruda

Trying to talk to myself

Do not let this thing kill this life that you love.
The best dream for your life is fulfilled in this place.
And this thing,
this comparison, jealousy, competitive thorn-in-my-side
will not have the final say
over the dreams He dreams for me in this community.
This little bitter root will not win
even when it feels like a raging wild fire.

And I pray that you.
being rooted and established in LOVE
may have POWER...

Love is my home.
Love is our home.
This little thing will not win.

Folk art love: Clare Rojas

On Being Alone

Thanks to Lauren for sharing.

A Reconciling

I unfold in you.
You.
Who is burning like fire
and sweetness like honey.

I release every unreconciled part of me
into Your mysterious hand.
How can I know what you've done?
You.
Wrapped in death and blood
crowned with Love and light.

You gather every strange part of myself
under the shelter of I AM.

I submit to this act
of un-hiding my strangeness.
You see and You know--
There is no hiddenness.

And I sense that rebellion
is maybe more of just an unwillingness
to let my Every Part be loved.

So I open everyday to
You.