Category: meandering thoughts
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Butcher
The first time I told myself that I didn’t care about you anymore I took a cleaver to the connective tissue of our friendship, sundered every tenuous attachment with such ruthlessness the actions of a madwoman, grieving Did I think no one would see who I was? Who I am? Or was I afraid because…
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The Trouble with Wanting
The trouble with wanting is I want you but you are a mystery beyond my comprehending, summons of sweet-scented blooms the bumblebee may never see nor taste. Blindly I follow after crumbs thoughtless cast upon the ground before me poor proxies they are for that in which my soul takes delights- and so I blunder on,…
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A Real Fixer-Upper
The house of this heart was a real fixer-upper. A bona fide eyesore if you knew how to look. Good bones, she had, but see? Desuetude draped heavy on her, shrouding windows, latching doors, and in the darkness labored on, devouring sinews undisturbed ’til only bones remained. Can these bones live? Within the shadow of…
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daily grind
and some days, I lift my eyes to the rafters and drift no more to give no more to take neither joy nor pain within my barely beating breast and I wonder: is this how the pearl of sand feels, as she grinds silently to nothing on the shadowed sea floor?
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These Days
These days, so often I catch myself in the world but not of the world; in the place of boundless possibility— a liminal cloud of of unknowing— in which the heart is freed for her own choosing circumscribed by nothing save that in which her soul delights. Expansive as the universe, she radiates light.
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beautiful eyes
The problem, as I see it: when you looked at me, when you peered in my eyes and told me you liked what you saw, (though I was not looking for anyone or anything) I liked what you saw when you looked at me. And now, when I look at myself, when I get lost…
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what we have in common
Perhaps we grew impatient, or maybe it was nothing more than rage at the distance between what is right and what is wrong in this world God has made: the cry for justice that feels worth a damn waging war against armchair ethicists at a quiet remove; the vision of a world held in common…
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On an early fall morning
There is so much I would tell you if there were time, if you had time. I would tell you how the trees are shedding their raiment, their leaves scattered across the turf like the cast offs of careless teenagers. Or how, last night, my heart briefly swelled in my chest as I pondered the…
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I am not lonely
I am not lonely; I am alone, though you would likely never know for all the sound and fury, chaos and light that fills my days and chokes my nights. I am not falling apart; I am many parts- emotions and habits, experiences, art, bandaged together by a fragile gravity that I call my self (mystery…
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What is True Right In this Moment?

What is true in this moment is that I am alive and there is breath within my lungs, this sweet air with its hint of sharper days on a horizon as yet unseen. What is true is that this moment will not be the end of me. It is is merely one in a series that together make…