I am …

I am not my mother.
Or the mother before her.
I am not like another.
I am not the lies I have believed in secret.
Or the ones still screaming my name in broad daylight.

I am not defeated.

I am not lost.

I am the pieces I have gathered,
Flame tested,
made ever stronger amongst the ash.

I am the lessons I have watched
Unfold before me,
The ones that still leave
The taste of blood in my mouth.

I am battle tested,
A collection of scars,
Redeemed and made beautiful,
Over and over and over again.

I am a universe,
A love story,
Stitched together by grace.

I am relentless.
I am hope.

cswhitlow

Shattered

Shattered like stained glass

Scattered across such unforgiving ground

Price paid for a reckless rebellion

Elbow deep in abandoned hope

She sifts anxious

Through bloody shards and dust

Searching, digging, scavenging

For just one piece

The one,

That will reflect the Light back in.

The one,

That always reminds her

why she should

Stand and fight again.

cswhitlow

Mistake

Pieces given.

Pieces taken.

Hope lost.

Truth found.

Fear shreds.

Grace will rebuild.

cswhitlow

Meet me…

Meet me here

In this early morning light,

Here in this hope-filled stillness,

This place just waking…

Meet me here

Hands wrapped around warm coffee,

Feet set towards exploration,

Eyes and hearts lit on horizons ahead.

Meet me here …

Let’s start an adventure.

cswhitlow

My love

My love,

Listen…

 

You are not broken.

You are scarred and still standing,

Battle worn, weary,

But still kind,

still needed.

 

You are not defeated.

 

Stop feeding that darkness

with old lies

and unrelenting doubt.

 

 

My love,

Look….

 

Look through my eyes,

Into this heart,

Offered,

Open in these bloodied hands,

 

Listen,

Look…

And I’ll show you,

the miracle you’ve become.

 

cswhitlow

Will

I will set this fear on fire.

I will brush the blood and gravel from these weary knees.

I will stand and sift through the glorious ash of the girl too afraid to live.

I will gather up the good pieces left refined

And leave the rest to become ink and scars.

I will put to good use this needle and thread.

I will allow to mend what has been left torn open.

I will open wide, wiser eyes and seek.

I will sing a new song.

I will emerge less of her ….

and so very much more.

I will.

I am.

cswhitlow

Dawn

Dawn bleeds

Rain relentless

Windows thrown wide

Cool rushes in

Warm covers

Perfect stillness

Deep breath,
Solace inhaled…
The day begins.

cswhitlow

Open

Broken open.

Spilling dreams.

High on hope and moonlight.

 

Adventure whispers.

Masks are burning.

Finally breaking free.

 

cswhitlow

Growing Pains

Woken from nightmares again …

What if’s and Why did I’s

raining down like volcano ash;

suffocating,

gray,

smothering the light

that sets free.

What if I simply slipped back into winter, frozen and numb?

Why did I let myself begin to burn?

What if I ran again …

from him, from her, from the dreams?

Why did I let myself be seen?

What if I went back into hiding?

Why did I step from the shadows at all?

What if I gave back into fear?

Why did I ever believe their lies?

cswhitlow

Just breathe

Some mornings,

The mask,

The armor slipped

so effortlessly into place;

a second skin she reveled in,

she conquered in.

 

And some mornings,

Weary from its weight,

Burdened by the lies,

She hoped,

Begged,

silently,

for someone to strip clean,

expose,

take it from her,

so her skin,

her soul

the fire within….

 

Could,

at last

breathe.

 

cswhitlow