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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

Bombs Away!



You're the sky that I fell through
And I remember the view whenever I'm holding you
The sun hung from a string
Looking down on the world as it warmed over everything
Chills run down my spine as our fingers intwine
And your sighs harmonize with mine
Unmistakably I can still feel your heart
Beat fast when you dance with me

We got older and I should have known
(Do you feel alive?)
That I'd feel colder when I walk alone
(Oh, but you'll survive)
So I may as well ditch my dismay
(Bombs away... Bombs away...)

Circle me and the needle moves gracefully
Back and forth, if my heart was a compass you'd be North
Risk it all cause I'll catch you if you fall
Wherever you go, if my heart was a house you'd be home

It makes me smile because you said it best
I would clearly feel blessed if the sun rose up from the west
Flower balm perfume, all my clothes smell like you
Cause your favorite shade is navy blue

I walk slowly when I'm on my own
(Do you feel alive?)
Yeah, but frankly I still feel alone
(Oh, but you'll survive)
So I may as well ditch my dismay
(Bombs away... Bombs away...)

Circle me and the needle moves gracefully
Back and forth, if my heart was a compass you'd be North
Risk it all cause I'll catch you if you fall
Wherever you go, if my heart was a house you'd be home

If my heart was a house, you'd be home

Sometimes, God speaks best when there are no words.

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