Abigail is married

Peter has 2 kids

Rachel found her "soulmate"

and Jimmy, he found his

they found love in a scary place

in a holy place

their love's in 1st place

AND RHIANNA, SHE FOUND LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

BUT WE'RE HERE

AND WE'RE HOPELESS

AND WE'RE STILL WAITING FOR LOVE TO BE FOUND

so we feed bread crumbs to pigeons,

thinking we'll get love in return.

but Cindy still can't find Christmas

Erica still has one wish list

Abigail's marriage lasted a year

Jimmy's divorce still hasn't been cleared

Rachel wasn't her soulmate's love

Rhianna's black eye wasn't either. 

Mary lost her only son,

and God cried.

so now every sunday

we break bread for the pigeons

we still don't feel loved

and God cries.

format credit: colby kimber barton

and she whispered,

"it's the color of my hair and my cheeks and my fingers when they're cold my mouth and my nose and my favorite winter coat"

and she gave him the coat, and behind a toothless smile, she saw his heart.


the same
              color
                       as her own.

"go to sleep my dear child,

it will be better in the morning."

their teeth, or their cheekbones, or the way their lips curl when they say certain words or talk to certain people

and sorry,

but life isn't fair;

even if the color of your skin turned out to be.

for the longest time i have thought being insecure meant hating something about your appearance. 

recently i've accepted the fact that my ears are too small, that my hair is too frizzy, that my eyebrows look 2 different sizes in pictures, and my fingers are far too fat to wear rings.

(ok maybe i haven't accepted that)

but i know i'm getting better.

there's just one thing i'm always losing sleep over.

my intelligence.

my brain.

not like, the shape, or the size, or the way it looks in pictures

but everything else

how i don't know how to explain myself when i argue

how every time someone asks me where the bathroom is i stutter

how when it rains i think about high school

how i said i wouldn't miss high school

how i'm ashamed to tell people i didn't get into BYU

how i miss 7 hundred and 45 things about a boy in bolivia

how i could write 1,000 blogs about a broken heart, but an essay on one would kill me

how i finally had the courage to ask a question and was laughed at

how i finally had the courage to go to church and was laughed at

how my driving makes everyone angry.


my friends make fun

i'm sad

and i'd rather be friendless

than sad

i wouldn't blame them

they wouldn't know

but i guess i wouldn't either.

i knew you'd call

she paused

you always do.

and she hung up the phone

and she smiled.

because he finally realized what he had,

and so did she.

and if i step on 1 more crack

then i'll break my momma's back

even more

than my words

already broke her. 

im sorry. 

there were just so many. 

i hope you always have young eyes
but i hope you always have old eyes

i hope you have a young heart

and even younger thighs

because i know that's what i would've wanted 

i hope this fall isn't cold
that you're young in your mind

that this winter the one thing that leaves you behind

are the leaves,

that don't leave,

for too long. 

i wish you spring 

i wish you old eyes

i wish you summer 

i wish you young thighs 


i wish you everything you never wished me.

and when the leaves disappear,

and when those leaves leave my dear,

i hope you will too.