complicated grief

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mine is a story of loss
and it is unfinished
of grieving things i did not know i lost
of future subjunctives and future unrealities that haunt
and shape the contours of my insides as i
wrestle emotional amnesia and concussion

sidenotes;
had first counseling session, secured a bomb winter qtr schedule, attended prison divestment conference, had two bouts of food poisoning (?) in two weekends, spent time with favorite people, came back to a clean and rearranged apt (!!), got professor's approval for research, researching postgrad options, hair is long enough to put in bun without hair tie, moopity moop everything is so weird and scary

apparently for half of my life i have exhibited most of the signs of situational depression. lol. always thought it was relatively normal to be sad about things often. guess not ???

undone

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i am undone with big gaping holes
quicksand dissolving what once brought me life

these caverns pockmarking my 'sides

my in-sides my out-sides

holding captive, echoes

of unworth in its

awful empty

silence

lingering by the fragments of these chopped up

sentences are the frayed ends of my leftovers,

my remains, the imprints of my once vibrant reserves

now empty

i am inside-out undone

sidenotes;

i'm burnt out and needy lol
poems happen when words fail and last time i've resorted to inarticulate jumbles was february 2013

what does god's reconciliation with me and the world say about my practice of reconciliation in real life
do people link principles and knowledge to on the ground, gritty action and obedience with a lifeline thread of grace enabled by Jesus or a rotting rope of human effort and condemnation for failure

sojourning in a garden

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anchor me with roots unbreakable;
because if your eyes keep smiling i will-
lead, for i am made to follow and
smile my way into your garden;
if you pursue i will melt incapably
but stumbling my way about the wildflowers
in a limbo, in a trap of living heartstrings
with no path or light or voice
that need to be set right and planted
and i'll need you to speak light and guide me home
into leafy strongholds and royally adorned flowers
where i am yours, sojourning warriors both
crafted and designed as petallike reflections of the greatest love
fashioned and called and marked and loved by the greatest love

sidenotes;
i have never felt more intricately conflicted before
can i be a hermit plz

sweet nothings

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you spoke of tender sweet nothings
i speak of soured nothings and tender festerings
and of undying hope deferred
it won't die--why won't it die
we made hearts sick and i'm sorry
that i-who are you again?
self appointed connoisseur of my heart?
i beg to differ, i beg for words,
i beg, this silence is killing me

sidenotes;
i am entirely grateful that God is a God of reconciliation and redemption and justice and mercy
but am still wrestling and confused and hurt
i met you in 2011

lingering plea

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it lingered in my hair and my well-to-do clothes
like a bad memory, a nightmare--or maybe, a plea
the smell of rancid sweat and fear and uncertainty

i met her on my way to breakfast that saturday morning
she had a wheelchair, clothes, and ruined feet
we offered her pancakes but she paused: "no, that i won't eat."

i sat behind him on my way home from work
it was dark and i was alone, envisioning kidnap wednesday evening
all i could remember was the back of his head and his boston cap

monday morning he walked by the aisle on my way to school
said "hi" to the bus driver, to his neighbor, sat down and talked
it was his dignity that left me ashamed and shocked

i had hoped that in writing it down,
i could make sense of it all
but at the end of the day i live in this world and not they
and i'm not so rich as to throw pity lest i make myself a clown

sidenotes;
they have dignity, too
God of sovereignty and redemption, help us

sigh i'm so rusty

can i be clothed in strength and dignity

it was nothing

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it was nothing, when
you took it and smothered it in sweet-
laughter; made it flutter
said things you shouldn’t have
intentionless, you played—had your fun
you took it and bruised it with sweet-
then threw it on the ground,
stole from her future,
taught her how to expect
nothing.
it was nothing

currently reading: emotional purity by heather arnel paulsen
lessons; life takes discipline. love takes discipline.

dear God

fill me
heal me