Tuesday, November 6, 2018

scared of

And
I don't know

I'm just scared to look in your eyes
Cause you're looking at me like I mean something
Like maybe I mean everything
And the pen in my hand is shaking
Cause I love those eyes
And I'm scared of them
Cause they're not afraid of love
They're not afraid to hurt for love

And
I don't know

Why I'm so scared
I'm scared to have lest I lose
I'm scared to jump lest I fall
I'm scared to hold you close lest you slip through my fingers

Gone

But mostly I'm scared that I'll leave you bruised
Cause I love those eyes
And I can't see them wounded

But
I don't know

Cause every time I look away and look back
Your eyes are still looking into mine
Like they'd be content to do the same forever
And I feel myself smiling in spite of myself
Cause I see the smile on the edge of your lips

And it's hard to be scared when you're right there
Unshaven and laughing and so familiar

And it's hard to imagine you gone
Cause you've always stayed


Friday, September 7, 2018

leaving home

I don't know if I'm ready to write this.

You never know how much you love home till you leave it. When they hug you too hard and you bite your tongue and try to remember to breathe and not let the heat behind your eyes fall yet cause you know it won't stop. When they shut the door behind them and the car pulls out and they're gone. And you can't stand that you won't be there for the clogging performances, basketball games, rainy Saturday afternoons, the family devotions, math lessons, the fights, the competitions for showers, watching Jeopardy at night, campfires, sleepovers, Dad's days off, and every other in between. And the end of a good thing hurts so bad, because it was a good thing. It was so good. And that's how it's supposed to be. It's supposed to be different now, but that doesn't make it any easier. 
Because your little sister is crying and insisting on one more hug and Mom's trying to keep it together and your brother keeps saying he'll see you soon and Dad's saying how much he loves you. And everything new is wonderful and good but it doesn't keep you from sitting on your bed in your room with the door closed blurring pages of your journal with tears.


every good and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. james 1:17.

behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. isaiah 43:19.

he has made everything beautiful in its time. ecclesiastes 3:11.

no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him. 1 corinthians 2:9.

Saturday, September 1, 2018

the first time

the first time i saw you, you joked with me like we'd been friends for years
your eyes looked so familiar, creased from laughter and sun and sleep missed the night before

how was i supposed to know that you'd be the one
to call me liv and ask if it was ok
to notice the dimples in my shoulders
to take the blame when I messed up 
to distract me with kindness

i didn't know
i still don't know
but i wondered
from that first day
i wondered
what if