Blessings for those that have none. Prayers not yet answered or denied. A struggle that bares invisible fruit. Not available for picking just yet. Maybe not even in this life. But simply delayed all the same. *** Blessings for those that know they already have it. The chosen rewarded by all they could ask for.…

There is always a type of soup everyone likes. A soup for me, for you, for them. As easy or complicated as you desire. Exotic or simple method for hydration. Used to ward the cold away from the bones. Or chilled enough to feel like the shade in the middle of summer. *** It is…

We travel down that road. Under the secret of night. Away from the eyes of the sun. Heading to a place we must reach safely. Who can know if it is home or the unknown. Just a place to make new experiences either way. *** We travel through the abyss. Reality falling away just past…

I used to clock watch. Set in the early morning glow of a nightlight. Sleep a mile away. Shadows and frustration my surroundings. Locked up and away until it is time for life again. Concern and agitation my state of being. *** My mother is also a clock watcher. Worry mounting as the time for…

That grief I have been avoiding. I add to it still. Tears locked away in attic boxes for another day. Though I run out of room, I still have space left. At least a spot for one more. Put it on my tab. *** The stress I am carrying, Multiplied in ways I thought impossible.…

Hide yourself away. Sun taken away on the darkest of days. Sequestered inside where you still have something left. At least you are dry while everything else drowns. Shelter you hope will remain. *** Lights strung up like the last in the world. Shadows around the corner where water swirls. Trying to stay warm when…

My heart lays amongst the gravel. Several feet underground the cold dark earth. Buried under that basement I know so very well. Protected by my bones that refuse to crumble. A separation from life and light. *** I haunt the old halls. Stained with the traces of what I used to call my own. They…

My mind is like a spirit box with only one channel. Static and gibberish chained together to make sense. Sentences created from the random. Heart scanning the frequencies for meaning. Communication that might not have happened otherwise. *** God says to not converse with spirits. I think I know why. A different spirit box covering…

I was one of those upset kindergarteners. Every class had one. The kind that fell apart the moment mom was out of sight. Crying hot tears until they could barely see. Led inside by the teacher to distract. A subject change the only fix for a breakdown. *** Kindergarten was inside a fenced area with…

I had ingredients laying around. Items reaching the end of life expectancy. Left over from previous recipes or visions that never turned out right. Perfectly usable but inedible on its own. Slightly stale but nothing the heat cannot fix. Just disappointing left to rot away. *** It does not matter anymore why they have not…