July 14, 2015

seven words / a guest list

hello loves, this is evelyn.
through the course of a shared passion for words, abby and i have come up with a unique idea.
we provided each other with a list of words with the instructions to write what these words mean to us.
here is abby’s list.
here are my heart-felt cries.


it is a cold wind that fingers over my skin,
quickly: like it’s trying to find a way in.
its sudden,
like a sharp gasp of breath
that enters numbly and escapes painfully,
leaving a sense of fear.

fear starts as a shiver,
as the feeling of something to come.
and it leaves you numb.
it leaves you frozen in time,
avoiding the next step.
for the shiver has gone,
but it left you with a sense of foreboding
and numbness.


what is this word? what does it mean?
is man wretched because of other men,
or because of himself?
i do not know if i can make another man feel wretched unless i reach for his heart:
what is inside of him, his thoughts, his past, his future,
and turn it against him.
wretchedness feeds on a man who has regret, who is lost,
who’s enemy is himself.


a crown may befit some, but not me.
i’ll be the outlaw,
the loner,
fighting for survival,
fighting for those i love.


i avoid looking at the gash, i try to look at the bowed head, instead.
the lips that had uttered “it is finished
the gritty hair that is swept across the brows.

but i can’t. my eyes are drawn, locked, to the sight of the gash in his side: deep, raw, bleeding.
his destroyed hands, cut through with a rod of sharp iron.
blood is smeared across his body,
dried like tattoos on his skin.
i try to look away, but i can’t.
not when this has been done for me.


it blinds me, i cannot see.
only feel.
i touch stone. it is cold, but dry.
i feel cloth, it is soft,
but empty.
the man on the cross,
he’s gone.
the man who let them hang him from nails,
is alive.
Jesus breathes


i wonder if agony can be a thing of beauty.
it is so harsh and painful that no one human can come out of the same.
it sears the mind until it has changed form,
and this charred, blackened result:
is it beautiful?


it is the end of all things,
disintegrated into gray nothingness.
soft like a whispered farewell,
scorching like a final revenge.
forever in this state,
never to be restored.
burned to the ground,
in villainous flames,
of fire,
of hate,
of love
of ____.
this is the end.

or so they say.


  1. Beautiful. You both have a special way with words. It was a pleasure reading both posts. :)