The Midnight House

The night fades into me
or perhaps it’s the other way around,
but it makes no difference

because I always end up here,
on the other side of sunshine
between the hush of four walls
with scorched palms
and black feathers
in clenched fists.

I always end up here,
in the red room
with amber glow and body dust
where the nightmare never screams
and the worry whispers terror so loud
it makes the morning seem so far away.

I always end up here,
with nostrils caked in soot and ash
where it stinks of singed hair
and burnt skin folding in on memories;
where the door is ajar
and my eyes are glued shut.

The things that wander in.

The Wind

If you ask me about hope,
I’ll tell you about the days
when it knocks on my door
and I don’t answer.
When it comes to soften edges
and feed phantoms.
When it’s the cruel caller,
the corpse at the door.
When it waits dead.
On those days,
I don’t want what it brings,
so I become the wind.
I tear the roof from this house
and the sky falls in:
old wounds shake loose.

Give Yourself Grace


How can we set ourselves free?

I had a conversation with a friend recently who asked me this question. At first I thought, how can I even answer this when I’m not truly free myself? The question I needed to first ask myself was, what is it that holds me back? ⁣

The answer is guilt.⁣ ⁣

Sometimes we fixate on our mistakes. We replay them over and over in our minds. We recognize our mistakes, and we own them, but we struggle with forgiving ourselves and letting it go. ⁣

Imprisoned by guilt, we’re doing time for being human. ⁣

If you don’t let go of guilt, you are consumed by it. It steals joy. It makes it really hard to be present in the moment because it keeps you tethered to the past. ⁣ ⁣

So you’re not perfect. No one is. ⁣ ⁣

The things you can’t change, those past mistakes… let them fall away. Abandon the idea of perfection. Embrace your beautiful truths. Celebrate your⁣ authentic self. Show yourself the same kindness that you do others. ⁣ ⁣

You are worthy.⁣

It’s only when we learn to give ourselves grace that we can truly set ourselves free.

Fetching Seeds

If you ask me about
being strong,
or resilient,
or brave,

I’ll tell you about unfolding edges
and rebuilding
from a million little pieces
despite the wreck that remains;

and digging the dirt to bedrock
to fracture and shatter,
splinter and break.

I’ll tell you about going downward
and inward, and meeting with sorrow
and speaking to pain;

and when hell spills from your bones,
that you’ll fetch seeds from the
dried-up darkness and grow gardens
from graves.