eggs and toast with a side of anxiety

Even when the morning skies are elephant grey instead of purest blue, and the rain seems to pour through my rooftop, soaking the bedclothes and gifting my sleep with soggy dreams....

Even then will I trust; even then will I obey. 

excuses

I am bad at writing short stories because
People are so much bigger than
One liners and
Shrugging shoulders and
The feelings in a day.

I am bad at writing short stories because
I feel the need to explain myself
All the time and
Apologizing is the second
language of my fear.


I am bad at writing short stories because
Every feeling worth feeling
Is so much bigger than
500 words even with
The longest adjectives.

I am bad at writing short stories because
Big cannot be little,
Stories are never short
People are halfway to infinite
And I have such a tiny pen.

houseplant

Push up through the soil

And turn slowly

Open your hands and 

Carefully offer

The color and the delicate bloom

As the sun shines on our faces

Freely reach toward

The light that you love