My Heart Won’t Break Again

You can save that broken heart for somebody else, because that’s never going to be for me.

Nobody’s going to leave me wondering where I stand,

Leave me believing I wasn’t good enough,

Leave me sitting at home with a new dress on and smearing my makeup because he couldn’t bother to show up again.

I’ve had my heart broken so badly I thought I wasn’t alive anymore, or I didn’t want to be,

And it took too damn long to even feel it beating again, to find it at all, just to let the first man with honeysuckle words and a saccharine smile come along and destroy it with a single hit.

I’ve known too many men who have let hopeful girls down with one dull blow after another as she watched him slowly change his mind,

Because she couldn’t bring herself to admit that he probably never fell for her in the first place.

When I repaired the crater in my chest left by the first one from a lifetime ago who kissed me a thousand times,

I built a wall made of brick and steel that’s easy enough for the right person to climb but sturdy enough to keep insufficient minds from tearing it down.

I wasted so much of my God-given life worrying over selfish people with no intention of loving me as much as I wanted to love in return,

So if I’m worth somebody’s time, then he will make it known that he is equally worth mine,

And I’ve got too much love in me waiting to be given just to be treated as if I don’t have anything to offer.

Dive – Ed Sheeran


You Met Me When I Was Skinny

You met me when I was skinny.

I think I owe you an apology.

I didn’t properly warn you that my sixteen year old body was temporary.

You fell in love with me when my stomach was flat and my face looked prettier and I took up half as much space.

I’m sorry.



Thirty pounds gained,

And your opinion of me somehow didn’t waver.

You never commented on my constantly expanding body.

Just pulled me closer and told me I was perfect, I was perfect, you thought I was perfect.

Those words had me reeling every time you said them.

I knew I wasn’t exactly perfect, but you had me feeling as close to it as I humanly could.

I didn’t think very much of my size ten waist either at that point.

My hips and thighs and every part of me had become a curve and I thought curves were what every woman wanted.

And wow, I constantly craved the look in your eyes every time you watched me from across a room.

That is, until someone reminded you that you could do better.

Just like that, I was composed of undesirable hills and bumpy mountains.

I’ve never seen you so angry and I almost hate to admit that it was the only redeeming second of that interaction.

You stood up for me when I was speechless, without hesitation, and that was when I realized the extent of which I was cared for.

I knew wholeheartedly, in the pit of the stomach you kissed and I cried over, that you simply didn’t see what they saw in my overbearing appearance.

But their words still refused to leave my head.



Thirty more pounds,

And I couldn’t shake it, couldn’t ignore the fact that I wasn’t the pretty kind of curvy people wanted to look at.

I’d grown too far away from the girl you’d met a couple years prior.

You still held my hips like nothing had changed.

Kissed my pale cheeks that lost their definition a long time ago.

Pulled me onto your lap while I worried about my thighs crushing you underneath.

“Don’t change for me,” you’d say between esurient kisses.

“I’d love you at 80 pounds.

I’d love you at 800.”

If you could have woken me up with those exact words everyday of my life, maybe I never would have thought otherwise, but that’s not reality and I was too afraid to face it.

“You could do better” was a cacophonous chorus screaming louder in my head, keeping me awake at night and keeping me hungry every day.

I couldn’t deny the simple truth that you grew into someone far too good looking for someone like me, as I only regressed.

I couldn’t shake the fact that I couldn’t measure up even if you didn’t see it.

Because you would one day, eventually.

You’d get sick of trying to carry such a heavy burden behind you, on top of you, suffocating you. I was.

So, for you, I thought I would be skinny again.



Thirty pounds less.

Maybe more.

Until I looked like the girl you fell in love with.

Until I looked better than the girl you fell in love with.

Until I looked like someone brand new.

Please don’t comment on the size of my lunch or lack thereof.

Don’t look at me with concern because I flinch at the mention of my favorite foods now.

I’m okay.

I will be.


Skin & Bones – Marianas Trench


a friend

Last night I asked for a friend.

She didn’t hesitate for a second, just appeared shouting “I’ll do it!” with so much enthusiasm I actually believed her.

I haven’t believed in anything wholeheartedly for a while, but with her arms around me squeezing so tight I knew I couldn’t float away and my head on her chest in the same way it used to be when we were teenagers and the first boy broke my heart, I was cared for.

Not the kind of obligatory care like when you mention being sad and somebody asks, “what’s wrong?” like they’re reading a script I guilted them into writing.

She wasn’t going to let me go until she was sure I was safe, until my mind decided to leave me alone for a while longer.

“I’m just trying to do what Jesus would do if he were standing with you instead,” she whispered and laughed at herself for it, but I didn’t.

I thanked her and replied, “He is.”

There was no need in explaining why I showed up at her house on a random Tuesday afternoon when I hadn’t driven down her road in years, though I remembered it like a sort of homecoming.

She looked at me as though she’d been waiting all along for a friend just like me, and that’s exactly what I needed.

To be needed just as much.

secret for the mad – dodie

Maybe You’re Sure About Me After All, And It Was Just A Means To An End

I shouldn’t admit this

Maybe it’s pathetic or simply too much

Because I’m really good at being too much, aren’t I

But yours was the best damn kiss I’ve ever had

And what kills me is that I bet you can’t say the same

Because you fall differently than I do

And I’ve never fallen for the right or good or, God forbid, the great ones

Which I honestly thought could be you

Or maybe somebody like you

But I like you

You could be right and good and maybe even great, but you don’t want it to be you

You changed your opinion and I still don’t really know why

So I told myself on the drive home to stop smiling, stop smiling, stop smiling

Stop thinking about your eyes looking into mine as you leaned in to me

The mid-conversation interruptions and my voice shaking so slightly

Stop thinking about your hand reaching for mine

Because you’re going to pull away

It won’t last longer than a night

And it didn’t

And I hate that I really think I can just be your friend

Until you say something witty or I catch you smiling mischievously

And my stomach does that fluttering thing again

Or maybe that’s my heart, but I think they’re somehow connected anyway

God I wish whatever it is, it would just control itself for once

But how do I let go of the thing in me that can’t let things go

So all I can think about is reliving that night again

To know what it would be like to stay at your center of attention

To feel that sense of comfort like we don’t know each other well but we will

Because we could have known each other so well

If only you hadn’t stopped asking me real questions, so I guess we’re at a standstill

I just miss believing for a split second

That I could be enough for somebody I want to be enough for

I wish I didn’t care about people as much as I always do

So excuse me if I push you away

I just kind of really like you

And you’re just kind of not sure about me

13 – LANY

I Hoped, And That’s Where I Went Wrong

It’s fine that it turned out this way,

I told myself not to get my hopes up and I’ll be okay,

I know what happens when I do,

It’s not like this is something new.


I wish I would have listened,

I never learned how to listen.


Feelings Fade – Gnash

Better, I Promise

Why do I feel like I’m at the end of a road

That I’m supposed to keep walking on?

The end

Stared back at me for the first time in a long time this morning.

I’m not quite sure why.

I’m not done here yet, I know.

There’s so much left to do.

There has to be so much more to do.


I want to reach out to my friends

To ask for a hand to hold for even a fraction of a second

Just long enough to feel steady again

But I’m not sure they know about the demons in my head

And they might chase them away.


God can save me

So long as I want to be saved.

If there is no more road to walk on

I will pave my own way through mud and gravel.

Everything feels so heavy.

I’m learning how to move on.

I’m trying to keep going, positively, I promise.

And good things come to those who make them happen.


So I will get better.


Voice Of Truth – Casting Crowns


7/21/17: So Much More To Living

Let’s be honest, I’m not happy with who I am. That’s become pretty obvious as of late. For several years actually. Putting appearances aside because that’s a whole other issue, I get in these moods where I hate who I am so much that I would rather stay inside all day, hiding, than have to face people and let anyone see me. Whatever version of myself I can’t seem to help but be in that moment. But I can’t do that. I have jobs to go to, errands to run, friends to keep up with, family to spend time with, fun to have in spite of my emotions, a life to live. I want to hide, I want to disappear completely, but I won’t because I will never allow myself to live in a downward spiral. And when I’m being totally honest, I don’t really want to shut myself away, I just think that that’s what I deserve.

I’ve grown to hate, and yes I mean totally unabashedly hate, my quiet nature; the way I shut down mentally at times. Or a lot of times. I haven’t felt like enough of anything for at least three years. I feel unfortunately incompetent, like no matter how hard I try I just can’t keep up. With anyone, with anything, with God. I expect everyone I meet to leave me, get tired of me, dislike me. I’ve gotten to the point where I am genuinely shocked when somebody continually pursues me and I start to wonder what their motive is. Is it pity? Do they actually enjoy my company? Oh, that’ll change, don’t worry. But I do worry. Constantly.

I wish my brain would shut up sometimes and leave room for thoughts that will make me actually interesting instead. I wish I didn’t think about myself and how I feel as much as I do. The irony, right?

I think about death way too much for someone who’s just dying to live.

I could say, “God, please fix me” but then I’d be missing the point. God isn’t a magical fairy that comes along to fix all our problems and turn us into His perfect little minion robots. At the end of the day, I’m still a human with human problems and emotions. I’m going to have good days and not-so-good days and I will inevitably fail as well as inevitably succeed. It’s human nature with or without the acceptance and acknowledgement of God in our lives.

But damn, I’m going to make things a whole lot easier on myself and choose the option where I get to talk to the actual creator of the world I’m trying to navigate. I’m going to admit that I need saving even if I know I don’t deserve it. If you think prayer doesn’t help, if you think it’s a flat-out sham, you have not been praying fervently enough my friend. Or you’ve been praying with a shitty attitude. Sorry, I’ll behave now.

My point is that I’ll take my chances with the Holy Spirit in me than without it any day. I’m not in a good place right now, but I’m not miserable. Before God, when I got in these funks, I was miserable pretty much 24/7. I didn’t know how to compartmentalize my problems, how to calm myself down and rationalize problems with prayer, how to push bad thoughts away and choose happiness, because I didn’t have much of a reason to. I once told my mom that I wouldn’t want to be alive if I wasn’t living for God because I would no longer have a purpose, and I mean that wholeheartedly.

So did all my problems disappear when I got saved? No. Duh. But my problems became manageable, controlled, and I have a meaningful reason to actually deal with them/face them head on.

I know this is temporary. Yes, this life, but these feelings too. I know I will have days where I don’t really want to be alive, I’ll be honest, but I’m going to have more days where being alive is so worth it because the idea that happiness isn’t a choice is utter bullshit. You want happiness? Talk to God about it and figure out how to get it. Just because it might be harder for some people than others, or it’s harder at certain points in our lives than others, or you don’t feel like you’re skipping and holding hands with Jesus on a rainbow 24/7, doesn’t mean that obtaining overall joy and contentment is impossible. It takes genuine effort. I don’t necessarily fault those who could never figure it out because of course it is more easily said than done; it’s just so sad to watch people fall that it makes me kind of angry.

At the same time, happiness is not everything. The fact of the matter is that there is so much more to life than one fleeting emotion. Does life become meaningless in the moments when you aren’t happy? I used to have that exact mentality until I realized how selfish it is. There are still people to care for, jobs to get done, pets to be looked after, art to be made, parents to be called, school to be attended, books to be read, poetry to be written, beaches to be visited, kids to be taught, cars to be fixed, marathons to be run, companies to be started, charities to be donated to, weddings to be planned, relationships to be formed, love to be given. None of that goes away, none of it becomes irrelevant, none of it becomes inaccessible.

Am I going to ignore the rest of life going on around me just because I don’t always feel up to the challenge? I don’t know, but I shouldn’t. And that’s what I’m trying to get at. Life doesn’t have to stop because you aren’t happy. Truly the only effective and permanent way to learn how navigate life is with God. Simple as that.


I usually only add songs that inspire me to my poetry, but this one is really appropriate so here you go: Scars – Colton Dixon