where do I belong

There hasn’t been much to say recently

Mostly I’ve just been looking for God 

When it’s too dark to see 

And asking for answers I don’t have

Lately I’ve been noticing small gifts

And they seem so vital

Like the sun on our walls

In the morning

Through the leaves 

That weren’t there a week ago

Our library

A breeze

Strawberry season

A new pair of sweat shorts

Lately I’ve been trying to notice the good 

Alongside the bad and hold it right there—

The tension

And stare it in the eyes

And still I don’t know what to do with it

So much is wrong

And still the birds are singing right now 

And someone got married yesterday 

And twin babies were born 

And I laughed

And still it is Tuesday 

And everywhere people are dying

And the sun is shining

And where do I belong?

– olivia gwyn

the world waits

It comes to me sometimes at dusk

In startling clarity 

Shaken from seat

Or grabbed by my neck 

Set on my feet

It is almost night and it is time

I know it is

If I wait one second it could be too late

It could be morning

It could be the moment has passed me by 

I know then how quickly my youth might leave me behind

How precious the days are—

The old, the young and the leaving

I know how I need to run

Like a dog let loose in a wide open field

For the pure pleasure of it

I know how it feels to want to set off 

Into the night

Into the woods

Into a party where no one knows your name

Is this a book?

Who said it couldn't be? 

Is this not a story?

Are we not all?

Are we not free to be free 

To remember what it feels like

To be

I remember, like a nightmare from your childhood

Stepped out of the dark right in front of your face

The buzz of an adrenaline pumping in your veins

A thrill of terror, of potential you thought you'd outgrown

How easy it is to romanticize a life out here

The still dusk, full of creatures and hope and fear

The scent of the smoke still clinging to your hair

The scent of hay fresh and boozy on the air

What could be more urgent?

The world waits

To be cut open with a knife 

— olivia gwyn

life is like a

 
Sometimes I feel like a child
Like life is a bundle of flowers 
I’ve got clenched in my fist 
In a death grip 

I’m so scared to let
A single one of them go
That I clutch them tight enough
To squeeze the life out of them

Sometimes I feel like a child again
Not sure what I did wrong 
No idea how to hold things loosely
Never told how to let them go

Only told not to hurt them
Only telling them I was 
Only trying to keep them safe 

do i?

I come back to my

Childhood home

And sit on a new bed

I still don't fold my

Laundry for five days

And wear my old Duke shirt instead

Last week I went for

A walk and it was

Like going back in time

Coming back to 

This place

So familiar

And changed

They cut down Mom's

Dogwood last week

Without even asking

Last night it was stormy

When the farmer in the tractor

Was mowing the field

I tried to walk

Fast enough to miss him 

At the corner

And I didn't wave

But I still walk 

Barefoot over the ruins of a

Once paved gravel road

I still look at the

Sky unflinchingly

When I can

Pad down the dirt paths

I still strain to keep the curtains

And windows open and let all the

Light in that will come

I still worry too much 

About my younger brothers 

And what a year will bring

I still bask in the sun and

The velvet blanketed dusk and 

My husband snoring on my arm

I still laugh too loud and ride

Bikes occasionally and make breakfast and

Floss when I think about it

And I know 

I'm ignoring the question 

Again

But it's just that

There's too much to unravel

Tangled up in the trees and the pine needles and the cicadas scratchy legs

Lately I answer you in a different

Tongue and it comes out wrong

Do you understand me?

Do I?

what i don't say

What I say:

I love you

What I don't say:

I love your beating heart 

I love that you are here,

Steady, beneath me

That your heartbeat is

A lullaby that sings me to sleep

I love that you are warm,

Solid, that it is so

Easy, an afterthought,

To have you here so safe

Beneath me

I love that you are still here,

Still mostly completely good,

And yourself and more yourself everyday

I love your beating heart

I am still trying to learn

How to say it out loud

disillusioned

I am disillusioned

With you

The way you send me home with groceries

Only to have them go bad in two days

The way you told me as a child

Not to be afraid and now give me new, and old,

And real reasons that I should fear every day

The way you lie to me

Trick me into 

A facade of control

The way you take

Without once looking back

Or offering any kind of collateral

The way you brutalize your guests

Leave us crawling forward 

On our knees with no 

Where else to go

And 

I am disillusioned

With you

And yet

Am I?

I still pour myself

A bowl of cereal late at night

And eat it on my couch

Against all odds

I still go by the library

To pick up my books

And watch the kids laugh and run 

While their moms tell them to

Slow down

I still listen to the music

Reaching from his

Open door 

I still like the softness of my lips

The wide openness of the earth at sunrise

The ache of this pen in my hands

I'm still fascinated with the way

You don't make up for any of it

But here I am still

Writing and romancing 

The disillusionment of you–

The beauty

And callousness 

Of this awful earth

it is working

I am sitting on the kitchen counter 

And you are wearing an apron 

For no reason in place of a shirt 

You turn on music to cook 

And dance like a fool

To make me laugh

And it is working 

All of it is working

And I am much too far in love with you 

what i miss

You ask me 

What I miss

And I tell you

Truthfully

But

Truthfully

I do not tell you

What I do not miss

And you do not ask

as if

I asked so many questions,

In those days

In the aftermath

What if–

If I had–

If I hadn't–

So many foolish questions,

As if the world revolved

Around me

golden

When I look back at us as kids

It’s not rose tinted

Or silver lined

But gold tinged,

Like everything’s covered,

Soaked in the warm afternoon

Light that didn’t hit till 7 pm 

In those long summers

It feels like it was always us

When our siblings fought and walked away across

Different sides of the stream

And we stayed 

Unsure, together

We shared our animal figurines

Like they were treasures 

Barefoot on the porch

Climbing on the trampoline

With scraped knees

It was always us

Always you, a little faster 

Playing kick the can, 

Sprinting through the trees,

Racing around the kickball bases, 

A shoe or wrapper thrown on the grass,

Around the house,

Your dog nipping at our heels,

Us trying to reach the trampoline,

Safe

It was always us

Gold hair tinged

Lighter, older

By the sun

Always getting asked

If we were brother and sister

I miss getting asked that

And that gold tinge 

Like you just put on 

Cheap dollar store sunglasses 

And everything looks golden

Like you just took them off

like we were kids

We used to play orphans in the woods

Running home out of the cold

To soup, a fire in the hearth,

Mom waiting at the screen door

Dad pulling up in his truck

As the sun fell below the horizon

We used to run through the corn field

Stalks slapping our faces and bare arms

Breathing fast and quiet

Sweat slipping down our backs

Playing hide and seek 

We used to run, always running

Bare feet slapping the packed dirt

Knowing all the roots and rocks on the beaten path

Slipping on the early evening dew in summer

Asking for just five more minutes

We used to jump on the trampoline 

For hours in the freezing cold

Holes in our jeans at the knees

Wrestling and spraying each other 

With the hose in the heat

We used to jump across rows of hay bales

Climb the trees and cut them down

Swing from the tire swing

And do cartwheels across the yard

And take our blankets out in early spring

We used to swim in the muddy river 

And follow the flood of the hurricane

Back home through the woods

Where we'd play games

Designed to ruin our parents' furniture

We used to cram in the bed of Dad's truck

Sticking our heads out in the wind like dogs

Hair flying all in our open mouths, laughing

Bluegrass playing out the open windows

And I guess I'm just in a panic to get it all down

Because we all failed in different ways 

But everyday was so simple

And the anticipation of the next was visceral and excruciating 

And so clear when I think back

Like I just couldn't wait

Like we were just living

Like we were kids

 

 

a love poem for myself 2/14

I love that I'm the kind of person who laughs when I trip over my feet,

By myself or on a busy street

I like that I fought my mom on rules of dressing and acting "like a lady"

I love that I can't help but record when I see the sun on the water

I love that I don't cover up my face when I laugh anymore

I like that I touch all the comfy clothes when I pass them in the store

I love that I get happy about the morning light on our walls

I like that I overthink about how I make you feel

I love that I want to buy lego sets every time I see them

I love that I go out on the balcony to hold my coffee and look at the morning and listen

I love that I am myself

And I like that I am here

is this not sacred

If Jesus lived through years of his life working a carpenters job 

Sweating, getting splinters, dirty feet, and aching muscles, 

Bruised, thirsty and altogether unremarkable, the illegitimate son of––

If If If

Then––

Is this not sacred too?

Is this not holy war 

And faithful, fearful

Living before the face of God

This living

This body

This temple

This secret

This holy place

Here?

Are you sure?

Here?

You want to dwell—

With me?

What kind of god is

This?

That chooses to dwell

Holy

In the dirt

With the dust 

That betrayed him

To make a home 

Out of us

What is this sacred life?

This living

This breathing

This dying

This eating

This waking

This working

This sleeping

This human body 

To a never dying soul 

This is holy ground

Jesus walks here

Dwells here

Abides here

Makes all things new here

Is this the secret?

He is here