One of my favorite childhood stories was “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” It’s one of those stories…
I’m having a struggle in my heart.
Eyes: swollen, dry, red with shame
We create our heavens…We design our hells…
If I no longer know who I am,Does that stop me from becoming who I’m called to be?
Head hung lowRed bleeds no moreSorrow cannot showLeaves of grace crumpleSafe privacy slides awayLike sands in a desert storm…
Lover,It’s complicated.We’re drifting,Yet we always pull into the harbor of each other’s arms.I wish I could be that woman everyone…