Writings of a Sinner

For all sin and fall short of the glory of God

Saving grace 

This is where I pray for forgiveness. 

This is where I break from the strain. 

This is where I call on your mercy. 

This is where I call on your name. 

I have stepped off the path with deliberate steps. 

Now I beg you to pull me back into your grasp. 

I am broken and rusty, but you give me the best. 

I am dirty and sick, but you wash my feet. 

Lord, We are tired and worn and we ache to be home. 

No words can say it right except yours. 

I won’t pretend to be worthy to even ask for a drop. 

But this is where I ask for forgiveness. 

This is where I pray for your saving grace. 



You try, but it’s barely an effort. 

You push, but it’s barely a sway. 

You’re known for hard work, but you’re one step from lazy. 

You’re looking up, but you’re falling away. 

Don’t claim to be whole when you’re broken. 

I’d be surprised if they don’t already know. 

When you’re hoping to pleasantly surprise them,

Just remember that you’re bound to disappoint. 


Sticks and stones break bones and find homes in your brambles. 

You flash a wink and throw a smile to crush a man into hopeless shambles. 

Heavy air surrounds your name to leave me shamed and so unclean. 

You whisper softly in my ear and tempt me with your evil scene. 


My eyes tire from seeing the stars glisten in peace so far away. 

I don’t know who is lonelier. Them or I?

What do they see when they look in the mirror? 

Do they see the fresh smiling face of content beaming back at them?

Are they warmed by their own heat? 

Or are they worn by the effort to share their light?

The Lonely Hour. 

It’s that fateful time where you could be dreaming wistfully away into your own reality. 

Or maybe it’s one minute out of many that you lie awake and watch all of your downfalls play out on the ceiling above you. 

Possibly, you breathe in your lover’s hair and find comfort with their warm body in your arms. 

It’s not out of the question that you’re fighting off heavy eyelids during you quiet night shift. 

This lonely hour whispers only longing and isolation into my ears. 

Longer than any normal measurement of time, I shall try to sleep through the lonely hour. 

If I were to say…

If I were to say “Goodnight” to your “good night”, would it change your mind?

Would you welcome my kisses like the sunrise?

Would you let me fall into love through a bluesky?

Could I cover and protect you like a rainfly?

When I say “goodnight” to your “good night”.


Am I allowed to ache to feel you wrapped up inside my embrace? 

Am I allowed to trap you in my arms like a fly caught in a web?

Am I allowed to send whispered love letters to your in acknowledging ears?

Am I allowed to tell you that I miss you even if you don’t say anything back? 

Am I allowed to let your silence break me? 

Am I allowed to let myself fall asleep early instead of waiting for a response that’s short and vague?

Would that be ok? 

Do I have your permission?

Am I allowed to miss you?

The things I’d tell you.

Oh boy, you’re a wild one. 

Your love is so blazingly hot that it’s corrosive.

You do not see the damage you deal until it’s done.

Fix fix fix until you can no longer lift the tools and you neglect yourself. 

If you asked me for advice, these are the things I’d tell you. 

Take a deep breath. 

You are of no use broken.

Stand up straight, but talk softer. 

 Love slower… If you can. 


A bird’s beauty is in their freedom, not their flight. 


I’ve forgotten the way it feels to hold on so tight you break. 

I don’t remember the addicting annoyance of long strands of her hair tickling my neck. 

I was reminded of the sensation of hot breath against my lips. 

I can no longer taste the salt of skin. 

There’s a hint of perfume on my bible. 

Sand slips through my fingers and I can no longer grasp the things I’ve forgotten. 



Vision blurs


Fire splits the sky from your maw. 


Claws dig into the soil. 


Muscles tense and launch you to destruction. 


You crash through. Concrete turns to dust. 


Lifeblood leaks from the cracks in your skin. 


Lights fade.