I feel dreadful

my heart is cold and empty,

my soul appears to have left


and I don’t feel bereft of it

at the edge is it necessary?

What is in the growing fear, yawning grave

breaking my ears with tears

and leaving me open

to my fears of

inadequacy, vulnerability

and hatred for the one I am.


I feel a vacuum growing

in my emptiness

and no one seems to notice that I

am outside, offers a kind word or two.

But, I slog on like a broken ass,

hating the very things I used to love.

Looking for a way to grow a staying soul,

a sacred heart,

that something,

something good,

will be mine

this side

of the

stifling soil.



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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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