I wonder at the girl I used to be. How brave she was and yet so naive.

The intricate way in which we change like smooth seamless waves. You don’t notice it until it’s already done.

How do I carry on with all these feelings inside me?

Held and Free

There is a sacred place where steady trees cover graceful hills and unforgiving mountains. It is easy to be breathless and in awe.

It is hard to compromise where we do not belong.

This is a different kind of loneliness, even though I’ve felt it all my life. Just adjacent to connection. Watching others discover love, wishing you knew if it were true.

I feel all alone in friendly crowded rooms. No one seeks me out for solace, and no one stays to keep me warm. Some barely catch my eye and then pretend they never saw.

I want a best friend, a partner in crime. Who knows what I’m thinking before I say it. Who sees the small hesitation before I say I’m fine. Who grabs my hand and runs. Who nestles up to me when it all becomes too much. Who is thick as thieves and we do not care what others think.

But imposter syndrome paints a vivid picture of all the people I thought I was. And every single version doesn’t come close enough to what I think other people love.

It’s hard enough to live inside this body. Without the worry that for others it’s not good enough to be seen and held and free.


Ghosts dance in my living room,
swaying back and forth.
Graceful twirls and smooth slides across the floor,
laughter echoes on the walls
hollow steps of who I was before
And they wonder why I don’t dance anymore.

Book Boxes

The beauty of the day came in boxes full of books.
Like Christmas morning,
each box another sort of surprise
even though I was expecting them.

I am very tired,
but it’s a pleasure to know
that books exist
and they are waiting to be read.


I haven’t felt a fire in forever. Flames have not flickered in my gut for the fervor of another’s favor.

I fear this loss of flavor for life. Feeling moments only faintly. I’m fraying at the fringe of my facade.

I fail at facing faults in my faith. Fairly certain that falling would fade like a fresh infectious fever for a friend who flirts with frost.

I haven’t felt a fire in forever. But I will keep flint and stone just in case.

This is me trying.

Because this is the only way to change. To want. To ask. To be an unlocked house in a neighborhood of robbers. Palms open, arms extended. Voice unshaking. Broaden yourself like a target to say “Aim. Shoot. I am ready. I invite hope in. I know failure may follow.” -Clementine von Radics

To be vulnerable.
To be wild.
To be fearless.
To be everything
and nothing.

To love the darkness
because you trust light will come too.

Lean in.
You are worthy of hope.