All the stitches of my soul fray and scream
like a flag in the wind.
Posts Categorized: poetry
I proof courage before it makes headlines. Erase
errors and daily edit my existence
until acceptance. The looks, scholarships, the homecoming queen, the pageantry—You caption my life—A Success On and Off the Field.
But fear echoes
in my ears, after the bleachers stop pounding
with admiration. I don’t know who I am without the
helmet. I polished
life before my final submission. Made
sure remembrance is stamped
into who you think I am. Before
the Suicide.
Motherhood began tomorrow.
Hopes and dreams swaddle in my soul, as I
repeat the ritual of laying you to rest. and cradle new
life as it shocks my heart from the grave
mistake you made.
(Every birthday is a chance to recommit to living motherhood wide open.)
My heart cries out for you if you are currently cutting. I understand the deep heartache, hatred, and pain that goes into this cycle. It took an act of God to stop mine, and I pray the same for you. Your life is so valuable to Him and to me.
This is how God’s love was revealed among us: God sent His one and only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. --1 John 4:9 BSB
Therefore, every second, even the abuse and hardest moments you experience matter to him. He died for them. Keep turning your page to find out what happens next. Live. Reach out and allow others to reach in. They won’t do it perfectly, but share your heart because you need to, and they too need to know they are not alone. We are created to connect with others. We need each other. I am encouraged by each breath you choose to take. And I thank God for each breath I take.
(Poetry response to a person contemplating suicide.)
When I can’t take anymore and decide to give up …
Hope seeped into my blood
A resurrecting transfusion of truth
Captivating the germ of thought
like a head-turning shape,
A glimpse of His hands, cut
for me. Stopped my cutting.
My self-destructing. God wore my hate,
my shame, like I’m worth
saving. I couldn’t fathom a fearless
night, but when Jesus held my broken
soul, I felt whole.
What is this life?
Life. Nothing more,
nothing less–PRECIOUS
Why am I here?
To encourage, to speak life,
testify to what I’ve seen and heard. I no longer
fear when I can’t take it anymore, I’ve given up
and decided to live, no matter what hell hurls at me.
Depression is a villain
masquerading as hero.
Promising romantic rescue
as he brings poisoned wine
to lips.
Depression pirates your treasure.
burying faith, relationships, desire, work, adventure
beneath the unmovable rock of despair.
He woos souls with thoughtless caress.
“I’ll always be here for you.â€
“You don’t need anyone.â€
“I am devoted when others divorce you.â€
“You can escape if you want to … but you
don’t want to.â€
Depression grips with jealous isolation.
Till blood flows thick, and fear penetrates
The last barriers of reality. Â Prying your fingers
away from the ledge of truth. I WANT TO LIVE!
When the cup we pass around
the table
grows cold with doubt’s tears
and our empty souls
keep feasting on the moldy bread of fear–you come.
Pouring new sweet wine, forever bubbling generously
over the sides of our expectations.
and serve fresh bread from the banquet table of your papa, the king.
The seasick panic of blistered seasoned
fishers of men, uncontrolled swells
smashing faith against wake
of our doubts
and you
sleep
you don’t
care for us
our fear swamping confidence
in your claim to be
I AM is rocked to asleep
By the destruction overwhelming us
Awaken to our insecurity
“Silence! Be still.”
Secure control.
Peace.
Taken for granted, the straight A’s
Riddled with stress. Popularity
Ostracized by the lack of interest. Neither in nor out. Depression always
Underestimated by the well meaning church choir. “Isn’t he such a nice
Boy?” they sang. “Doesn’t he show such
Leadership potential?” Until you teetered on the
Edge of the unknown and revealed your spirit was already
Dead.
Look around you, is someone struggling in secret? Notice the needs of others and be a light for someone battling despair.
Stars lit my darkening soul.
A map of promise affixed over a sea of doubt.
God’s steady compass, commissioned above the rotating
gravity of churning experience.
Captaining my broken ship to the dock of possibility.
Morning will dawn and
I will spy the security of land.
Sucking in the stale air
of depression, regurgitating
regret day after day.
Throw open windows!
You break the seal of
our tomb.
Filtering the sunshine of unconditional love
through the curtains of our mourning soul.
Resurrecting the fresh fragrance
of hope.
Alerting our senses to the possibility of Spring.
National Suicide Hotline
If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 988 or go to the website at https://988lifeline.org/