I am an actress
though you wouldn’t know it
I act like I am fine with this ending once I move away
I act as if I am just seeing you for fun
for lust’s sake
I act as if my heart isn’t waiting around for you to come around and see
that I am an actress
that I want more than your body
That I really love you
Feeling small and heavy
I’m sinking down into the ground
shrinking into the earth’ walls
the sunlight’s rays are barely making it in
this self made grave
where it is damp and dark
I earn for the heat of your embrace
as you shone light into me
Will you resurrect me?
The Art of Wanting
isn’t wanting more
as the world says otherwise through billboards and commercials
The Art of Wanting
isn’t even an art
It is the Art of Waiting
that brings us to what we want
just a little bit closer day by day
hour by hour, minute by minute
Until we learn to want less
and wait more
Pink skies filled with wonder
yet I still crave the thunder
the dark skies
that echo these cries
of mixed colors
I think of greener days and weep to water those old plants again. I wish healing was simple. Where the breakthrough is the door that leads to more doors and upward stairs. Instead, I walk through doors with maizes and basements. With attics and hallways that sometimes lead me right back to the same spot I started. As I crouch in the corner of the bathroom, being all too familiar with the reasons why I am here, I remember that it’s all a journey. It is through these maizes that I learn the crevices of the floor and textures of the wall. I learn how to exist in the mundane details that I so desperately want to run from. It is through the power outages and darkness that I learn from the roadblocks I set out for myself and the objects I’ve fallen over in the dark. And sometimes I go through the maize over and over again. Sometimes I go in with blurry vision with a bottle in one hand and a razor in the other. And sometimes I doubt I’ll ever escape.
But I have made it to the rooftop before. I have seen the sun gleaming over the trees and stray balloons flying in the air. I have felt the wind on my shoulders and God’s delicate whisper. For now, I cherish those moments and press on knowing they will come again. I will make it out of this bathroom. I will make it out of bed. I will make it back to the rooftop where I can lift my hands freely without bumping into myself. I will soar and I will expierence that sweet freedom that I desperately crave. He doesn’t feel near, but He is. He always is. He doesn’t just exist for the version of me that dances on rooftops. He exists for the version of me that’s weak and crumpled up on the bathroom floor. For now, I find peace knowing rooftops and sunshine await. I find peace that I am loved in this corner of the bathroom floor no differently than in any other place.
I am thankful for the breath I catch in the midst of laughing so hard. I am thankful for the breath I catch in the midst of a panic attack. I am thankful for those gin & tonics and the pack of newports last summer. They got me through some hard moments. I am thankful for chamomile tea and the aroma of frankincense that currently gets me through those hard moments. I am thankful for change. Even when it’s hard. I am thankful for coffee and chocolate in the afternoon. For long hikes and the sound of leaves rustleing beneath me. I am thankful for dessert for breakfast. I am thankful for not feeling guilty when I have dessert for breakfast. I am thankful for people. Even when they are at their worst. I am thankful I get to come along side people at their worst. I am thankful I see the best in people. I am thankful I am indecisive. That I take time to think and feel. I am thankful that I am quiet sometimes and won’t shut up at other times. I am thankful for my ridiculous laugh. I am thankful that I cry easily. I am thankful for my body that can hike up mountains and that has ran 26.2 miles before. I am thankful for letters from my friends. I am thankful for long phone calls, being in the middle of 6 books, and reflective walks. I am thankful for my curiosity. For wandering into stores and exploring towns and cities.
I am thankful for those hard moments. For the Psalms at 3 AM when I was half drunk half crazy and couldn’t stop crying. I am thankful for the instrusive, racing thoughts . They’ve taught me how to be present. I’m thankful for those woods by my house. Where I’d hide from the world. Where I would smoke weed, binge on fast food, and cry to a God I didn’t know yet. I am thankful for creativity. I am thankful that I can take pain and turn it into art. I’m thankful that I was bullied in elementary school. I learned that creativity was far better than conformity. I am thankful I got into all those fights with my parents. It taught me the power of forgiveness and change. I am thankful for the mistakes I made with him. I now know what kind of love I deserve. I am thankful that I took a break from drinking alcohol. I am learning how to genuinely have fun without it. I am thankful for those years of judging every inch of my body and counting every calorie in every crumb. I now see how incredible my body is. I am thankful for the times I was in bondage to something. Alcohol, fantasy, food, hating myself. I now know what the cost of freedom looks like.
It looks like a depth that infinitely goes on and on. So much depth and space. Air to breathe. Space to dance. Walls that echo when you sing. It looks like a cross. It looks like a hope that lasts forever. I am thankful for all those battles I’ve fought and will fight. I am thankful for the pain I have endured. For I wouldn’t be as passionate or as vulnerable or as tender as I am now. With each trial, my heart grew to hold more compassion. And with that compassion I touch the world. And I touch my own heart. I am thankful for the lives I am able to touch. Because it’s never a one way street. They usually touch me first. I am thankful for being lost. I am thankful that I was found. I am thankful that I still sometimes get lost yet I am always found. I am thankful He leaves the 99 just to go out and find me. I am thankful He lets me drench His feet in perfume and tears as I stumble in my doorway dizzy with wine and shame. I am thankful He doesn’t see it like that. He only sees my beauty. He cares more about my shame than my sin. He died to erase it. He lives to replace it with His love.
I am thankful for the grace that is found in nature, in my patients’ eyes, in my friend’s words of affirmation, in my other friend’s thoughtful writing, in my other friend’s voice as she sings. The grace in my Dad’s hug, the grace in my Mom’s laughter. The grace in my sister’s art. I am thankful for people who have believed in me in every stage of life. Who have never given up on me and only show me grace. I am thankful for the grace that was given to me in those times of failure and times of success. The grace that doesn’t condemn the failure or praise the success. The grace that embraces the entire tangled mess of a human that I am. I am thankful for the grace that will never cost. The grace that will always set me free.
Your love has no empty corners, no dry patches, no desolate spaces. Your love has no limititations no conditions no rules. Your love is not built on lies. It is not built on sand nor rock. It is built on a firm foundation. A foundation that held the cross up high for all to see what love was truly made of. A foundation that holds this world together. That holds this heart together. Your love does not damage It does not spoil. It does not rot. It does not strike. Your love restores. Your love does not play games. It does not deceive. It does not raise its’ voice. It does not leave. Your love stays. Your love does not degrade. It does not threaten. It honors. Your love is not cheap. It is priceless. It is the standard of worth. Your love does not stay stagnant. It is not boring. It continuously transforms. It flows throughout and within each of us. Your love does not give up. It does not lose interest. Your love is persevering. It is patient. It pursues. Your love is my treasure. It is the only reason I can love. It is my hope, my peace, my existence.