icarus, lend your brave.

she stretched them wide,
feathers of words and dreams
cobbled together like patchwork.
she felt them rise
and prayed that they would stay attached
stuck to her with determination and spit.
she’d never really felt a kinship with Icarus
who flew so far, so high, so freely.
she still doubted that she
could truly even take to the sky.

she had always been content,
had never longed
to lounge among the clouds

but then – one day – there was a key.

and she found herself wishing she
could walk on water
but her footstep broke the surface
and sank into the reeds

and so if she was to cross that river
she would need a pair of wings.

so she opened up her suitcase heart
and dusted off the hopes and prayers
that she had tucked away, shut away, locked away
(for you see, her hopes brushed up
too closely against her fears)
but now it seemed
they were calling to be seen.

so she stitched her feathers together
with clumsy fingers and knotted string

she looked at the sky
she took a deep breath
and asked Icarus to lend his brave
and then, with shaky knees and trembling heart

– she flew.


cages and keys

she wasn’t really sure what to believe // if she could trust the ground beneath or her feet // or if the wings she dreamed were real or make-believe // how do you trust what you can’t touch

she built her wings on hopes and prayers // but wasn’t sure if they could bear the weight of her fears

someone had dropped the keys // beyond the bars of her cage // she didn’t know if they were in her grasp or just out of reach

she didn’t slip her fingers through the gap // she was scared of discovering that she couldn’t reach the key // and scared of discovering that she could

when I sit on the couch and am silent [at (in)courage]

I joined a community group at my church this year. We gather on Sunday afternoons to read the Word, discuss the sermon, ask questions, and chase after the Lord together. We think and ponder and eat and laugh and share life, and it’s been an incredible blessing.

But the truth is this: often, I sit on the couch and am silent.

I’m only twenty-one, a college student trying to figure herself out and find her place in the world.

And when I sit in the circle of adults – people with marriages and mortgages, children and careers, real grown-ups living in the real world – it’s all too easy to believe that I don’t have anything to say.

Today, I’m writing over at (in)courage. Join me there?

something about being the way.

follow me, He says.

but neglects to hand me the map.

follow you?

follow where?

what do you think this is, a game of follow-the-leader?

do you expect me

to run around the playground

climbing bars and dodging swings

without a destination in mind?

clearly, you’ve never taken a road trip with me

if you think

that I will just follow you.

but still.

follow me, He says,

quiet echoes in my heart.

follow. me.

something about being

the way, the truth, and the life

and truth, well, I can accept that truth comes from you

and life, I’ll take that over death

but I trip

over the words

in that first fragment.

I am the way.

follow me.

follow you?

you are not a street sign,

you are not a paper map,

you are not even a vague arrow,

a general sense of direction.


why should I follow you when I can’t see where you’re going?

isn’t it better

if I slide into the driver’s seat

if I set the course

and you – come along for the ride.

you, you should follow me.

but still He says,

follow me.

what if I say no?

what if I stand still?

what if I am tired of scrambling across the monkey bars?

what then?

what next?

what now?


inspired by a prompt in a story sessions write-in. if you need a community that champions – these are your sisters.

write | five minute friday

the world will keep on spinning.

the sun will shine silver beams through leaves, raindrops will fall down to kiss the dry ground, hummingbirds will beat their wings, and on the other side of the world, a thunderstorm will rumble into being.

it will all keep happening, dearheart, if you never pick up a pen.

if you keep your words inside, if you let them simmer quietly and never boil over, never flow out. if you do not write.

the world will keep going, day by day by day. the world is a large place, and it does not often take the time to recognize you.

but, darling – will you keep on?

I’m sure you will. I’m sure the sun will draw patterns on your hair and the raindrops will wet your skin whether or not you have ink smudged on your fingertips and on your heart.

but these words you write, they are the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. you, dearheart, you could start a thunderstorm.


it’s five minute friday, where we join over at Lisa-Jo‘s place. one word, five minutes, no editing. just hearts and thoughts and words. 


[january 2014]

because what I’m into posts are things that I do! even three days late! because I forget about them! oops.

January was cool. I still can’t believe that just a month ago I was at home celebrating the new year by playing Tripoley and eating chex mix with my grandparents (that’s right, I party hard) and now where I am fully into a new (and final) semester. what even is time.

with that eloquent thought, let’s talk about January. stuff happened. I think.

reading (book-wise)

  • Daughter of Smoke and Bone and Days of Blood and Starlight, Laini Taylor. look! a YA series that isn’t dystopian! it’s a miracle. these are a really fun and engaging read about the fighting between chimerae and angels. and there’s a chick named Karou with blue hair.
  • Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords, George R. R. Martin. because I’m doing a GoT-reread.
  • The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman. guys, I have discovered that I love Neil Gaiman. The Graveyard Book is such a weird, funny, interesting read. I’m reading American Gods right now and this guy can write. which everyone knows.
  • Mastering the Art of French Eating, by Ann Mah. this book wins the category of books that make me want to jump on a plane and fly to Paris and eat all the food (again).
  • Bossypants, Tina Fey. I love Tina Fey and her memoir is such a funny, witty, clever, fun read.
  • Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, Rainer Maria Rilke/Robert Bly. I texted a friend saying “COME TO THE LIBRARY AND READ ME GERMAN POETRY” because I wanted to hear it in the original language. so basically, yes.
  • also: reading Morte D’Arthur (Sir Thomas Malory) for one of my classes and spending most of my time yelling “ARTHUR WHAT EVEN ARE YOU DOING”. I mean. please tell me you understand.

I’m doing this Goodreads-2014-challenge-thing and challenged myself to read 104 books this year. Goodreads is currently informing me I’m behind, but I think the GoT books should count for two each. those things are thick.

reading (blog-wise)

okay, I’ve been totally shirking on my blog reading/blog collecting. again. always. I read some good stuff – I know I did – but totally didn’t save links. maybe next month I’ll have stuff for here. no promises.


The Oh Hello’s. on repeat. endlessly. all day. everyday. plus a little Beta Radio and Gavin Degraw and American Authors.


  • Parks and Rec. maybe cried when we said goodbye to Ann and Chris. okay, definitely cried.
  • Elementary. seriously guys, so good.
  • also SHERLOCK. was a thing. and I have mixed feelings. drunk John and Sherlock make it almost all worth it.
  • also, super pumped for Shipwrecked’s Kissing in the Rain. like, super pumped. A Tell Tale Vlog is the greatest. Socially Awkward Poe: all the yes.


my roommate and I are doing a whole30-inspired paleo30. so basically, eating a bunch of meat. and sweet potatoes. yum.


  • all of my classes. they’re fantastic, and awesome, and the best.
  • being back in North Carolina.
  • getting more involved at my church.
  • sweet potatoes. can’t stop won’t stop.
  • tea. lots of tea.
  • a snow day. which of course necessitated a snow angel.
  • dancing. a lot. in a lot of things.
  • scribbling words in journals.
  • women that believe in my roar.

as usual, linking up with Leigh Kramer. so tell me, what did you love in January? also, what should go onto my 2014 reading list? hit me up, yo.