love letter
show me
how to write a love letter darling
and I'll write every one to you
show me
your dark skin and
speak to me in your native tongue
I'll try to keep up with your music
darling smile
like the sun has always bronzed your skin
honey share
flirtatious glances and longing stares
let me know I've caught your eye
and then leave
as long as you return
to show me how to write a love letter
your address and maybe
a little kiss on the cheek goodbye

The sun, the moon, the stars - all are hidden from my sight, the missing stars the worst of all. How many days since we fled? I cannot tell. They brought me here, roughly. They taunt me now, jeering at my God.
/Let your gentleness be known to everyone. - Paul

Alone, no better. The flesh and the devil mock. And worry - of pain, family, tenacity in faith. Fear eats and consumes. Gnaws the soul to bits in the quiet of solitude.
/Do not be anxious - present your requests with thanksgiving - and peace which passes understanding will guard you. – Paul

Who gives you your song
As you go along,
Through pain and strife,
On the road of life?
What brings you joy,
When you your songs employ?
Is it grace you portray
As you go on your way?
Why do you sing
On the first morning,
Or in the new day,
As you your chords play?
Who gives you your lyrics?
Father? Son? Holy Spirit?
Did God endow you?
Tell me please, is it true?
Do not in silence progress,
The answer is yes!
For if God is your song
As you go along,

i. memory
because our last conversation
was the best
you said you were scared so i took your hand
said to go to sleep, i'd talk to you tomorrow

the beeps drifted farther apart
and from your hospital far away
i heard the news you had died

oh how i miss you, i dreamt of you last night
your wide eyes and wild hair
bursting at the seams with life

you said you loved to talk to me
i said i loved you too

I fought the rain. It slashed at my bare arms and legs, water streaming down my head into my eyes, threatening my vision. When I felt I couldn’t fight it any longer, I saw The Fence. My legs felt like lead and my chest was aching, but I made myself run to the hole in the barbed wire. I dove through it and sunk under a near pine tree. I shivered in my wet clothes and tried to calm my breathing to a normal pace, although I suspect my heart was racing from more than just running.

[this piece has been redacted for publication in my school's literary journal!]

arms wrapped around my own body
i can feel parts of myself--missing.

the spaces in my heart left empty
when you all packed up and left.

the part i lost when i lost you--and you,
and even the loss of the cat.

this is a funeral for myself.
to honour what i have lost of myself

when you died. because you died and
a little of me died too.

you didn't pass away, you didn't move on.
you died. and a little of me died too.

this is a moment of memory for myself.

“Five days and it’s Christmas!” Ema squealed as she danced around me the next time I entered the café.
Behind the counter, Emily waved at me. She was on the phone.
“Shh,” I told Ema. “Your mom is on the phone.”
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Ema whispered.
“Probably sleeping a lot, and calling my parents.”
“Will you come see us?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to interrupt your day with your mom.”
“But I want you, and Clara, and Mr. Jerome to come!” Ema said.
“That’s up to-” I began, but Ema interrupted.

Wonderful counselor, almighty God;
Beginning and ending: creator of time.
You are the comforter and the rod;
Yet your punishment is deserved by far.
Your grace reaches farther than I imagine,
Your truth will be upheld through trials.
Though your truth threatens my life
I will remain true, by your grace I will stand.
I want to feel Your peace, know Your love,
I want to understand Your grace,
To use my life for Your glory; to save a life,
Lay down my liberty, if I need to.
When I think of the murder of babies,