Work & Whiplash

Sunset chaser

It is both painful and glorious.

To do the work for which your heart burns.

To pour out, day after day.

Effort, words, presence.

And at night you fall into a deep slumber

Your dreams filled with a sense of being seen. Acknowledged. Celebrated.

Somedays they come true.

Most often, they don’t. And it stings.

But this is the very blessing of the whiplash.

The noise, the inconvenience, the sharp snap

Commanding you to sit up and take notice.

Inviting intentional breathing exercises to get through it all.

Inhale gratitude. Exhale promise.

Like fuel for the road, it floods your bones.

On these days, my dreams are of a different kind.

I dream of solitude, comfort, anonymity.

Where I make maps in my mind.

Travel the roads in my own thoughts at ease.

You can’t have one without the other.

Split it right in the middle.

And right at the core,

That is where you find your joy.



You lit a match and left me burning
Was it really as easy as that?
Took a lazy stroll and won’t be returning
How do I win you back?
You say earnestly that you loved me
And maybe still do
But your eyes give it away, all stony red
And I know these words are easier said,

You see my love is still here
as firm as when you left
You need look no further
than the tears that I have shed
Although I am no fortuneteller
I know what will happen now
You will swear you love me
But I hear the flatlining
And baby, we are dead.


she was a girl

that picked at her own flesh

and cried wolf

setting the demons of her mind

on those around her

not knowing that

they were chained to her wrist

like dogs.

the barking drover her mad

the ropes tore her skin

and the stench of her own frustration

beckoned the ravens.


for a short while

you can turn your face away

from the blisters and bruises

that your words have inflicted on me

but when you wake from the denial

and the anesthesia of your ego wears off

you must face your own sickness

and the truth

that my forgiveness is the only cure.