The Other Side of the Fence

In the woods behind my childhood home, a familiar path led through the trees and over the creek. Around the bend and up the hill, to a wooden fence raised over my head; This boundary created space between the invited and the rejected. On the other side of the fence was a swimming pool, filled … Continue reading The Other Side of the Fence

“…It’s a Cold and Broken, Hallelujah”

The carpet felt more like concrete, as I collapsed beneath the table and erupted into a violent explosion of salty tears and self-hatred. The world I had known was forever changed in the unraveling of my shame, finding a shattered mirror and a fist and a whisper, "wherever you go, there you are." Find me … Continue reading “…It’s a Cold and Broken, Hallelujah”

[S]easonal [A]ffective [D]isorder

there's a few things i'll always remember like the uncomfortable quiet of november and the way happy chases the ever after like a kite without anchor in a natural disaster all contacts deleted like a chorus repeated advice gone unheeded, and the champion defeated there's a few things i'll always remember like the frozen burn … Continue reading [S]easonal [A]ffective [D]isorder

Life and Death

I can still hear the doctor's voice, repeated in my head. "If your biopsy returns with evidence of cancer, you may have anywhere from two to ten years to live."A few days later, I received a voicemail from the doctor's office requesting me to come in for a consultation. I didn't get the message until … Continue reading Life and Death

The Healing Work of Anonymity

Find me here, in the last row of a broken circle. This new family, a worshipping community of African-Americans, has adopted me into the fire of hugs as I sway back and forth to the music. Clapping, standing, sitting, bleeding; my Hosanna was born in a furnace of doubt. My hallelujah is cold and broken. They do … Continue reading The Healing Work of Anonymity

I Believe

I believe that I've lost belief in promises and choruses and confessions of faith and doubtthat flannel graph stories of redemption can be recapitulated and monday follows a blood red sky and sunday never comes.I believe in angels in blue jeans.I believe in Ambria's promises and Ashlyn's nail polish and Mariah's runaway tears. I believe in bonfires and … Continue reading I Believe

The Inexplicable Itch for Redemption

I have looked into the eyes of evil. A reflection of a broken man, wiping away the tears of self-hatred and my finger is on the trigger of a cosmic cannon. There is an eternal depth to these roots. The juices of forbidden fruit dripping from failed frown, swallowed by shattered teeth hidden by shattered … Continue reading The Inexplicable Itch for Redemption