Isn’t Your Heart Full?

I cannot seem to understand how hate can reside in a heart.

How is there room? 

Isn’t your heart full of love?

Love for your life? 

Love for your friends? 

Love for your family? 

Isn’t your heart full of hope?

Hope for tomorrow? 

Hope for a thousand tomorrows? 

Isn’t your heart bursting at the seams? 

So, how is there any room for the hate you have for me?

When You’re Away

Sometimes I wear your shirts.

Sometimes I feel so small that I will shrink inside of it and no one will ever find me.

Sometimes I wear your boots.

Sometimes I feel as if the weight of where you are will crush me under the heel.

Sometimes I wear your tags.

Sometimes I look down to see your name and feel brave enough to face the day.

Sometimes I wear the smile you left me.

Sometimes it’s all I need.

This Moment

Every word seems empty. 

No matter how hard I try to articulate this place, I fall short. 

I’m grasping for something. 

I know it. 

My heart is too full, or is it too empty? 

I’ll just let the string quartet play.

Favorite Places

My feet are stuck in this same old place,

But my heart is beating a thousand miles away.

It’s sipping coffee on a river bank,

And making angels in a bed of sand.

It’s paddling across a mountain lake,

And it’s sitting next to you, holding your hand.

Look Up

I’ve stood in the house of your wings and listened to you flap to the beat of time. 

Open and close to show your beauty to the world. 

Just a glimpse, and then you’re off. 

Flying so high, I’m forced to squint to find you again.

Is that your hope? 

To keep me looking up? 

I will look to you forever.

A House of Books

I want to live between the pages of an old book.

Let the faded print sustain my hunger.

Let the dull, curled pages shelter me from the cold outside. 

The musty smell would be my new perfume. 

I’d live here in this worn and weathered world until the binding breaks.