Hunt

Hunt me down, love

Track me here,

To the edge of all we’ve known before.

Hunt me down, love
Meet me here,

If you’ve the courage for a fight.

Hunt me down, love
Find me here,

Broken open and ready to soar.

Hunt me down, love
Or set me free.

cswhitlow

Advertisements

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

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

Afraid

I am afraid of her…

She whispered.

 

I am afraid of falling,

And I am afraid of the standing still.

 

I am afraid of staying numb forever,

Unmoved and frozen in worn out armor,

And I am afraid of the exposure,

Of catching fire under a blinding sun.

 

I am afraid the roots of loneliness

Have grown too far-reaching,

Too deep to be torn to the surface,

And I am afraid my love

is a storm tossed ship lost at sea.

 

I am afraid these broken pieces

Left behind from so many sorrows,

Are too sharp for innocent mortals,

And I am afraid I don’t quite recognize myself

When whole and happy.

 

I am afraid of all that’s hidden inside me…

The passion, the hate, the wild wind,

The sorrow, the overwhelming joy,

The untapped ocean depth,

And I am afraid it can no longer stay contained.

 

I am afraid…

And I am choosing to be brave.

 

cswhitlow

Their Favorite Coffee Shop

He watches her,

From across their favorite coffee shop,

Revels secretly at the sight of her

Getting lost…

Words,

Phrases,

lines,

crafted ages ago,

In another time,

In other places,

About other loves…

Ink on paper,

Heartbeats etched into exquisite lines,

Passion bled from dark poets

And tormented souls.

Her breath catches,

Her eyes close briefly in silent wonder,

Swirls of fragrant steam forgotten

In the mug beside her.

He watches her,

From across their favorite coffee shop,

Envious of the words that could

Ignite such a soul.

cswhitlow