Nero’s Candle

I couldn’t be

brighter

if Nero dipped

me in wax

and lit me

in the green

of his garden,

a human torch

aglow,

hair and skin

and heart

melting and sparking

meant to snuff

me out,

but only

steering eyes

to the force

of my

fire.

The Night Man

I had a dream

about the other

you,

the good one,

the one that loves

to hear me breathe

and asks me how my day

was.

I can’t help it, though,

to think

of the half-shadow

of the sometimes man,

of his arms wrapping

me up into himself

until everything stings

of midnight.

It’s the darkness

that comes calling,

that will devour us all,

but in the other side of

you,

the not so bright one,

I hold my breath

as if drowning

because it sometimes

feels like I am.

But when my eyes open,

that’s the best part of it

all.

To see the startburst surge

against black felt.

To desire utter nothingness

only to be introduced

to light.

Hole in the Brain

My mind is shot.

I’m having a typical moment. Well, really not so typical as of late.

Just a moment that’s similar to ones in the past. Where I’m tired and coiled into myself and regret every choice I’ve ever made.

Hi, I’m Ericka. Nice to meet you.

It’s just a few things. Little things that weave together into a much larger blanket.

Or straight jacket.

It’s a moment where I walk away from the God of the universe and sit and pout because “life isn’t fair.”

This is apparently going to take a awhile.

Life’s hard when ADHD is thrown into the mix. It’s just…hard. But everything’s hard.

I’m not naive to that fact.

It’s just nice sometimes to recognize it. To say it out loud. To drop all need for pretense and picture perfect photos that angle out the dumpster fire in the corner.

And there God is. Waiting patiently in all His glory.

And there I am, hole in my bleeding brain, offering him that alongside my weather-beaten heart.

I’m afraid He might be getting the raw end of this deal. But something tells me He is and always will be okay with that.

Damaged People

I wake up in a weird panic sometimes.

I recommit myself to Jesus and pray for his mercy and forgiveness.

Something hits me squarely in the chest at night. Maybe it has something to do with the darkness.

There’s a lot of “us” versus “them” lately, no matter the particular issue. No matter the particular side.

What I feel in every inch of my being is that there are no good guys. We are all God’s people, created in His image.

And we’re all fallen creatures that will only come to see God when we submit our lives to Christ Jesus.

There is no such thing as all ways leading to heaven. There is only one way.

Don’t be fooled.

And this is why my heart spins in my chest sometimes. We’re getting closer to the end all the time. And there’s so much to do. And I will never ever measure up.

But my God takes me in His arms, and I can finally breathe again.

Because when we repent and we seek His solace, there is no “us” versus “them.” It’s only a damaged people yearning for a good, good Father.

And a good, good Father who will weed the bad from the good, an act of judgment that was never originally intended for our fragile human hearts.