fear.

sometimes

i fear people will not see in me a deep ocean, 

but instead a shallow stream. 

a stream that runs too fast 

with slippery rocks underneath,

or one that drifts slowly 

with cutting stones at the bottom.

sometimes

i fear people will not see in me a brilliant flame, 

but instead a heap of ashes.

ashes that are taken 

by the wind's every direction,

or a heap that is looked down 

at with sorrow and disgrace.

sometimes

i fear people will not see in me a grown woman, 

but instead a foolish girl.

a girl who is all too common 

with no wisdom to speak,

or one who is unstable 

and trusts only what she can see.

sometimes 

i fear these things and they long to claim my life, 

but i also fear a God who loves me.

a God whose love shines through the depths of my heart.

a God who brings my shallow sin into the light.

a God whose love ignites the ruins of my spirit.

a God who does not burn out or drift away.

a God whose love gives wisdom and restores my trust.

a God who has saved me from my fears.

This

this city is waking

me up.

car alarms can't stop

crying. dogs don't know

how to silence 

their howling.

morning fog extends

this street

as i pretend to fall

back through my reverie

where no doors shut, 

slamming out the screamed

i hate yous,

longing to linger

on dinner table nights.

and tipped-over feelings

don't stain the carpet.

and misunderstandings

turn into pillows

fighting and

this family laughing,

trying to forgive

the spilled rice and guilt.

but as hard

as i try

i cannot keep sleeping

here alone in

this bed, in 

this restless state

where people are people

who were not born

to live in dreams.

but to, instead, awaken

this place we call home.

no subtitles

scene: there are two reworded routs—

one short, one shorter.

my feet are sore, and my short breaths cannot 

carry me through these jungles of mumbled 

free-falling words.

the same words, kept and unkempt,

keep me awake at night and run 

into the walls 

in my head that's lying still. 

i toss my problems to the ground

and turn myself around because maybe,

maybe this time

I can forget they are still there.