The Mercy Of Speckled Stars

Memories are like stars speckled across the night sky. Rarely linear in form, they’re merely loosely connected dots in the synapses of the brain. They appear and disappear. They reappear in different places, in different…

Fractal

This is the point where trying to hold things together for everyone else makes me fall apart. Fractal. It's not supposed to be like this. We were made in His loving image. We are creatures…

A Repentance

Repentance. Waning appetite of faith-junctions betrothed. Relaxing, embracing tapestries lost. Misplaced versions of stark archetypes, leaning, beleaguering, vacating thin veils of guilt-shed sin on vandalized walls. We wait. Fake. Deface. Glorified perversions of angst-ridden blame, an upheaval of martyrdom placating grace. We wait like frost-white dalliances of hate. Forgiveness. Mirrored truths of disingenuous praise. Succumbing, shedding insidious skin. Forlorn ashes of dead souls, simmering, frothing, bequeathing tastes of half-sighed lies on brittle-dry lips. We drink. Sink. Relinquish. An artifact of fate belaboring grace. We claw like wolf-thieves approaching the gate. Acceptance. Repenting diatribes of angelic malaise. Atoning, dethroning serpentine reign. Heralded saints of banished restraint, bleeding, careening, embattling faith of deaf-toned harps on bleak magistrates. We pour. Scowl. Implore. An advocate of priesthood postulating will. We sacrifice lambs on Calvary's hill.  …