Tangled Love

It is cruel and kind,
Cutting and sublime.
It is restless and at peace.
Why does love such heartache keep?

~Heather

Letting Go

Teeth clenched
tightly
forced together.
Feet pushing
the ground
slipping, holding.
Body leaning
past the edge
stretching, teetering.
Chest pounding
pumping
heart racing.
Hands reaching
reaching
past the rail and below.
Fingers grasping
clawing
damp air.
Tears falling
begging hands to stop reaching
for
the
fallen.

~Heather

Love Defined

Love is when I get to be me, with you.

~Heather Westover

A Mourning Walk

I inhale a shaky breath and close my eyes. It has been a while since my heart has betrayed me like this, but I am here now in the memory of the past. I run my empty hands across the cool familiar walls, over the smooth, wooden railing, up to the hall that holds a wall of memories. Yesterday is frozen in this place. Picture frames of smiles and perfection sing to me. I walk on, the carpet soft beneath my feet. I see our bed. His side. My side. The lamp on the nightstand spilling out a flood of warmth. My heart stops to the sound of the back door opening and closing. The sound of keys clanking. I am waiting for him, my next breath forgotten. I feel the warmth of his body wrap around mine "I am home," he whispers into my neck. His forsaken love stings against my skin.

Faith

I step out into the unknown… I am walking blindly, cautiously. Breaths of fear and hope mix in the air before me.

Waiting

(Here's a piece I wrote this past summer... guess I'm having summer envy today.)

I sit alone beneath a heaven of green leaves; blue sky and sunshine caught between. The summer breeze wraps around my skin. I breath in the hope of you, whispering for you to come, come, come.

~Heather Westover

The Intake

It's hard to look back on the woman I once was. The one who saw the world through clouded eyes of hurt and distrust, the one who blamed and justified for mere survival. Those selfish, needed eyes, how I hate them now. For they captured a story of only half truths and blink now in shame for the blindness of their broken view. I wish for different eyes, eyes that see past my own cuts and scars, eyes that feel for those who hurt me, eyes that reach past these years of regret and focus on the only One whose love can heal my blindness.

~Heather Westover