We’re all just walking each other home.

What I never accounted for.

Some call it carelessness.

A rude interruption.

No matter what.

Stories of grace and forgiveness and mercy and love. Maybe.

Relentless in hope, gentle with understanding.

Worthy of what?

“Who ruined us?” My dear, who told you you could be whole?

Goodness is not always measured by longevity.

You live your life assuming safety. Then, one day, you stop assuming.

Everything changes when the person you cannot stand becomes the person you cannot stand to lose.

I was telling a friend about how one of the moms I know was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon. “Was it the axe?” she asked.

I opened my eyes to look at what I was told should never be.

The majority will shatter and the strongest tradition may be change, but there are things that, even still, remain.

The voice of two worlds.

There is no set pace, no heartbeat, no rhythm. Every act is a gasp for air.

I want you to know this story because I now wrestle with the fact that it's over.

Slamming into the concrete after tripping over my own shoe.

What do you bring when you walk into a room?