Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
We pray for healing, Your love, we're feeling. Covered in prayers and knots, Churning buttery thoughts. The small quilt is a symbol,
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
Weary of the triggers that put me on the edge. The edge of a cliff in my very own mind, where I just want to jump and see where I'll land.
Hide me from guilt and shame from history erase my name But that was not your purposeful aim broad shoulders now toiling in constant pain
Love is like a gentle dove that landed Love is true and perfectly candid Love originally designed to be unconditional
Swirling around, thin rimmed vessels of earthen clay, soothing souls, sitting here awhile, to pray. Touch my lips with encouragement and validation,
Heart shards scattered in canyons deep, where few dare to search, for the pieces reap. The Comforter sees, interceding, on his knees,
Glorifying you brings life to my bones, and power to my soul. Soul is made up of the mind, will, and emotions, and with all that I have, I long to magnify you more.
One day there'll be no more suffering. One day there'll be no more pain. No more shame.
Give her rest like she's never had before. Put your angels around her so that she knows peace. Give her sweet, graceful dreams,
Know them by their fruit, taste and see if they are true. Do they look like wolves or sheep? Do they command and demand?
If you give a chicken a cupcake, it will probably ask for some sprinkles to put on top of it to add some color. If you get the chicken sprinkles,
11:04 I wish to soar away into the night out of mind, out of sight faster through the clouds far from the pesky, nosy crowds
