The hurt still sings— a haunted thing awake in me.
Category: Bone
Honest truth laid bare, what endures when all else is stripped away.
From Ashes to Wings
The cold of you that left me— I will not deny it. I let it dissolve me, a watery grave I stayed in for a time, learning a new rhythm.
Liminal Honesty
There is no longer space for rushing, powering through, chin up, or other dishonest ways—pretense and pretend, concave heart.
Burn of Correction: Part 1
His whip flickers precisely over my skin, carving me repentant. The burn of humility’s relief strips me of burdens, leaving me lighter, closer to Him.
Jasmine on the Grave 