I fumble through life with brittle legs and eyes glazed over, A fragile soul on the brink of shattering.
Through my foggy vision, I can make out the shapes of power-wielding figures. I’m engulfed in mirages of moguls and whispers of “follow me,” each one promising a life of ease and a happy ending.
It is then that a beam of lights breaks through my muddled thoughts, lighting a clear path forward— Even still the path is not without treachery.
In fact, it’s a walk through fire, through hardships, and through crowds of glaring eyes casting judgement upon you.
Still I press on, following the light that guides me on my path and warms my spirit. My soul, once fragile, matures and strengthens as I trudge through the kiln of life experiences.
With newfound clarity I follow the boundless beam of light until I come face to face with its source, arms open, welcoming me into the fullness of His love for all of eternity
You cast us to the friendship boneyard in an untimely death. Left to decay as communication halts and memories fade
A tragic loss that I tried to evade But for things to work it must go two ways. Avoidance, hurt feelings, an end without warning a death march and a solemn funeral except I’m the only one mourning
The tombstone reads “in memory” and though the past is mostly dust, still that’s the place you visit me. In my camera roll, in times of need, in windows-down drives around town with morgan wallen or jon pardi
It hurts to know you won’t be there through the milestones A year ago I would’ve sworn you’d be by my side when I’m a bride but now you won’t even be present and my kids will not know yours
Someday I’ll move past our past and with the pages turned and lessons learned I’ll be wiser. I’ll have more friendships made to last that can withstand the fire
But for now I pace through the boneyard considering the words spoken and the effort I made and I conclude that I owned my actions, did what I could, and cannot salvage what she didn’t want saved
As your eyes lay to rest the beasts awaken materializing in your bedroom climbing up the bedposts
Lingering near your head as if to spy on your dreams and laugh at the prospect of twisting them
Suddenly, the beasts pounce in unison clawing at your chest seizing your cheerful visions and sanity
They dance across your ribcage throwing off the steady beat of your heart sending shockwaves of fear through your bones
Your mind is at the mercy of mares gripping your imagination until consciousness drives them out
In a writer’s wardrobe are garments aplenty All shades of sentiment, fabrics of experience, and threads of stories.
The writer has an eclectic style and a willingness to wear pieces many would never be seen in.
Fear, regret, anger, and sorrow once hung untouched, but the writer tries them on without shame
looking into a full-length mirror, modeling each piece with dignity, shedding light on their names.
The writer’s wardrobe has lessons in store; a gateway to introspection and healing for those willing to open the door.
70,000 people shoulder to shoulder breathing in the open air and belting their favorite lyrics
70,000 pairs of eyes fixated on the stage, the screens, the artist, their senses enraptured by the flashing lights and ethereal voice
70,000 hearts beating in rhythm sharing the same enthusiasm, traveling to the same stadium, and experiencing the same spectacle
70,000 souls together for one night, each on their individual journeys but miraculously crossing paths in a seemingly boundless intersection— A combination never before seen and never to return again
My dress sweeps behind me as I tread heavily across the sand, its edges tattered from wear and stained golden brown
I carry with me evidence and memories of moments that ripped me up tore my heart like the fabric of my dress and left me wearing thin
The dust swirls around me consuming me in a haze. I am both falling apart and lost without direction
In that moment, a hand reaches out to me through the wind, through the chaos, through my uncompromising resolve to do it all on my own
And in my desperation I reach back, my hand and my heart clinging to Him. All at once the dust settles to the ground and I see His face bronzed and bright
Where he steps my feet follow and where I follow, my peace is restored. He is my lantern in the night, the great seamstress of hearts
My dress turns to silk white as snow my calloused feet soften and my heart rejoices in His grace and redemption
[this ended up not following the prompt at all I realized lol, but I’m just posting it anyway🤷🏻‍♀️]
long rectangular prisms side by side a pale yellow like blonde hair kissed by the sun
citric acid soaked splendor their beauty perfectly preserved even after 10 years at room temperature
a family of potato sticks carb city sodium central bundled in a red and yellow home
paper bag protection scent wafting through the car drive thru then chow down on glorious McDonald’s fries
I walk through life on my own own every step I take take the high road when I can can make hurting hearts feel known
Known to laugh a bit too loud loud with friends; apart I’m not not the kind to lose my head head still often in the clouds
Clouds and sunsets make me smile smile at all God’s blessed me with with each day I start to learn learn who I am is quirks in a pile
