Category: Poetry

I am afraid
to tell these stories -
though they claw at my mind,
desperate to get out -
I do not fear judgement
or the content - the words -
I fear the justice of my mind,
that I won't do right
by the characters 
I see so clearly -
though I wrong them
by not trying at all.
Courage will come.
It has to,
before time runs out.

Reach for the unattainable;
always a hair beyond
the stretched fingers' grasp -
bodies like thick
stacked like cord wood,
those crushed in the pursuit
a bloody reminder
of good intentions
and failed actions.
Redefine perfection.

my tendrils seek the earth -
hunger for its touch -
in each place I travel through.

they dig deep
that I might find the soul
of the place and bind
a piece of it to my own,
enriching me with greater experience,
helping me grow.

experience provides strength.

we must nurture our roots;
have more experiences -
become stronger.