on disappearing

I am nothing. I am fading.  faded.
I am the pieces of dust on the dashboard, the list of unopened messages.
I am not the withering plant, but not the blooming one.
I am the guitar picks lost in your room. useful, but replaced and not needed.
I am not worthless, I know that much.
but just nothing.
and I have my own adventures.
and my own ideas and worlds and plans.
but do they exist?

and it is okay to be nothing, I think,
it is better to feel hurt quietly than to cause it for someone else.

silence buzzes in my ears.
tomorrow feels rather empty.

(written right before disappearing.
it is home now
the quiet fog.)

learning to feast on God's word.
to let it fill me.
and flourish.
I made excuses, even recently.  but in reality, in the day to day, I am just never enough.
and that is ok.


why i dissapeared

it's not like there was nothing to say
or nothing to feel.

how will you know if you never try...
now is the time...

I may have lost my way.

is it just the lot of those like us
to be so severely misunderstood?

we wander around
bumping into one another
before losing courage and running back to our hiding holes.

why did I dissapear?
I'm not entirely sure myself.
sometimes talking feels impossible.
sometimes it's terrible to stop feeling but want to,
and to feel everything without wishing.

seclusion. silence.  simple.

(these words have turned out to be more serious and sad than I intended
for though it exists
the quiet has turned out to be so much more comforting.)

hi, hello.  there have been a lot of things going on, but yet a lot of emptiness.
I decided not to do many things and have been trying to do others.  He is faithful.
choosing silence, quiet reflection and books over social media right now.
space is essiential to breathing at this time.
(i tried to go back last night, and found that there was still no room)
in other news, my computer decided to die, but I now have one back in my hands.
hello blogging souls, hello breathing.
hello summer, halfway gone but still just as rich :)



my words are slow
and stick to the roof of my mouth.
all of the thoughts
drift and tumble and roll
tossed around by the great prairie wind.

i am leaving.
there is so much to do
(yet isn't there always).
i think about it too much.
getting too excited.
standing on the back porch
i set my phone down on the ledge and kick off my black shoes
and audibly tell my mind to shut up.
it's just  a whisper
(and it doesn't really do the trick).

i am coming back.
just give me one month.
and then two.
and summer here will be almost over.
but will i miss it?







it's said that things like that only truly happen in books.
that real life doesn't align the same.

but i am still so certain of this one thing
that i could read and see so clearly
the hurt and the hope and the need for understanding.

and i hope you knew that i did