Fears (Page 3)

Layered (a poem)

All those years piling on layers of my own design, deep and unyielding, packed tight by every boot that walked over me…
[continue]. . .

I bought into the thought that faith was independent of trust.

(436 words)

The waves are crashing over me, while life is rushing past. I try to stay above the water but hope is sinking fast.  
[continue]. . .

This America has always been, as you may have guessed, about conquest.

My thoughts turn, yet the air about me lies still, undisturbed. Tranquility without, while inside I spin.
[continue]. . .

I have been thinking, a lot, the last two days—about who I want to be in this moment.

What makes us better than the people whose votes and actions we oppose?

(350 words)

This is one of those
awkward
moments,
we all have them
and yet in the midst of it
I feel so foolish,
exposed,
helpless,
and alone.

A heavy storm is brewing,
out on horizon’s line.
Panic sets as we worry how,
to prepare ourselves in time.