Spirit
“Faith begins where control ends.”
Letters for After
Since we know that’s impossible,
I write these letters
so they can outlive me.
“Some lives continue through language.”
I’m afraid to die.
I want to live forever.
Since we know
that’s impossible,
I write these letters
so they can outlive me.
Maybe I can teach
my children
and my grandchildren
the real me.
The meaning of truth.
The meaning of peace.
Cover Them
A quiet prayer spoken without spectacle—about trust, protection, and releasing control while still standing watch as a parent.
“I can’t be everywhere.
So I ask You to be.”
God, please protect my children.
Out in this world, living.
I can’t always be their security.
So secure it in me—
that they are covered
from the top of their heads
to the soles of their feet.
Holding Space
The path grows heavy when you’re alone and unheard. This piece is about presence without pressure—about holding space, breathing through the weight, and realizing that surviving another moment still matters.
“Nothing you say needs fixing. Being heard is enough.”
I support mental health awareness—
because the path gets heavy
when you’re alone
and no one knows how to listen.
The world already carries its own problems.
Still, you ache for acceptance.
For attention that isn’t borrowed.
For affection that doesn’t ask you
to prove yourself.
So imagine this—
I’m holding your hand.
I’m listening.
Nothing you say needs fixing.
Now take a deep breath.
Let it go.
Look—
you’re still here.
And that matters.