Convict

I often fear conviction.
Sin is comfortable, conviction is not.
Sin seems like such a warm place
even though it is far from home.
The thing with satisfaction from sin is,
it's temporary.

Eventually the sin won't be enough. You'll itch for more.
Digging yourself a deeper hole overtime.
You lose sight of everything else.
Sin envelops you whole.

Conviction saves us from the hole.
Conviction is God telling us
to step out
and fill yourself with him instead
of sin.

Sin leads to conviction, which ultimately leads to grace.
Grace should not be feared.

End.

Sirens blaring like the music

That once flowed out of car speakers

It was just an accident.

An unintended post breakfast activity.

Breaking, fast, everything in 

the nearby surroundings. 

The end drifts in like a haze.

A metal casing was not enough 

To protect the delicate cargo.

Limbs lie fractured, never to

Be puzzled back together.

A heart’s last beat leads

To the start of an end.

It was just a bad case of judgment

Impatience wins in the worst scenarios.

An extra thirty seconds might have

Changed the entire course of 

Not just this day, but an entire

Lifetime. A time that should

Have been full of living,

Breathing, laughing.

But one decision 

Brought this

Course to

End.

Enough of not being Enough

She had few regrets in life,

Except for all the times

She looked in the mirror

And told herself she was

Not enough.

The mirror lied profusely 

To her. Telling her that her     

Stomach pushed out too 

Far in that shirt

or her size four jeans

Were several sizes away 

From a double zero.

The scale never lies

So she figured neither did

The mirror.

She was never attractive

Enough for that boy
Or anyone for that matter.

Never enough personality.

Never enough style.

It was only a matter of time

Before everyone left for
Something better.

Accomplishments never reached 

The peak of her expectations.

No matter how hard she worked

It was never enough for her.

There was always an ounce

Of improvement that could

Have been made. Perfectionism

is a monster.

Life is all about making changes.

One day, she looked in the mirror

And instead of listening to it

She told it to listen to her.

That day she discovered she was enough.

Her body was enough, her personality was enough,

She was enough for the people in her life, her accomplishments

Were enough, and most importantly her imperfections

Were nothing.

Running to Forget

I always find myself running.
Literally and figuratively.
I run miles on the roads.
The dirt and fresh air fills me with contentment.
I run miles away from things emotionally.
Forgetting is often better than remembering.

The more I run the more I forget
I forget the pain of pavement
I forget the pain of my lungs grasping for air
I forget the pain of negative situations
I forget the pain of people who have hurt me

What I learn the older I get is,
you can't run forever.
Your body breaks down.
Your mind gives up.
You're left to pick up the broken pieces
of what you tried to run away from.
But somethings are meant to be taken
in rather than forgotten.

You reach a point where you have
to run to remember rather than forget.
You run to find yourself.