Proverbs 12:18

United States of America

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the words of the wise bring healing.
-Proverbs 12:18

Published Work

Gone Wrong Part 2

    Ezzi knew she couldn't hold her breath much longer.  It had to be almost three minutes she'd been in the water.  Besides burning lungs, she had goosebumps everywhere.  And it wasn't just from fear.  It was so cold Ezzi thought she'd just freeze right there, and become some sort of statue.  Ezzi kicked and fought her way to the surface.  Why is it so far away?  She wondered for the millionth time.  Darkness surrounded her, laughing at Ezzi from all sides.  There was no light anywhere, meaning there was no surface anywhere.
    Ezzi thought about giving up.  It would be so easy to just fall limp, and let the darkness take her away.  But she wanted a breath of air more.  She clawed for the surface, feeling like she as trapped in a current, pushing her down, down, down.  If Ezzi had been in her right mind, she would've acknowledged the bright eyes staring at her.  If...

From Snowflakes To Diamonds

do you ever feel
like you don't have
a purpose
like your only goal in life
is to freeze
into a cube
of ice
your dream is to
one day
make a difference
probably not
its a little far-fetched

slows you down
and you freeze

waiting to melt again
to feel the warmth
of the sun
but you know
you’ll never amount
to much more
you’re frozen
until you learn
how to light

A Fire
That uncontainable
To burn
Away your chains
And stand
With the rising
Of dawn
Because you were meant
To be a roaring river
A crashing waterfall
An ocean full of ideas
That will shape
The universe
Let your actions
Change The World
So chase your dreams
Even when it seems
you're turning back
to ice
and frozen again
lose hope
Because you will always
Another Sunrise

Gone Wrong

    Hot summer sun glistened off the lake, blinding Zemira Nightingale.  It was a toasty day, especially for Wyoming; it felt well above the 99 degrees that thermometers declared.  As the car slowed to a stop, Semira caught sight of her two best friends, already laying out their towels and preparing for a day filled with fun.  As the pale blonde leaped out of her moms silver minivan, the others began to playfully joke about the absolutely hideous car that Mrs. Nightingale insisted her daughter drive, restricting her from the cherry red convertible on the other side of the garage.  Zemira chuckled as she grabbed her swim gear and made her way to the people she considered sisters.
    “Zemi!”  Her best friend in the whole wide world, Ezlyn Emerson, screamed her name as soon as she was in earshot to become deaf.
    “Ezzi!”  Demi returned the squeal.  The two friends embraced and jumped up and down as if...


a quick poem
penny for your thoughts
just passing through
and soon i'm

Alone, Yet Not Alone


    A loud BANG echoed through the peaceful forest.  My siblings and I stopped wrestling, and I tilted my head to the side to consider the noise.
    “What was that, Mommy?”  My glistening white sister asked.
    “Where did they say they were going hunting?”  Mother asked, ignoring Chestnut’s question.
    “I think they said over by Snake River,”  My pitch black brother, Hickory, piped up.
    “I hope they’re alright,”  Mother murmured.
    “Why wouldn’t they be?”  I stared straight into Mother’s eyes, knowing something had unnerved her.  She finally looked away and nobody pestered her anymore, even though we desperately wanted to know what was wrong.
    As the sun began to sink, Mother worried more and more.  Finally she barked briskly, “All right, follow me.”  She led us out of our den and it wasn’t long before I...


    Amoni fingered the money in her hand.  She had only five dollars from working Monday through Friday, hardly enough to send back to her sister in Sweden.  With the rent due, and a new pair of shoes in desperate need, she would have to start working Saturdays.  It would only add one dollar to her paycheck, but it was one more dollar to send to Hani.
    Amoni missed Hani so much.  It had always been the three of them, Jini, Amoni, and Hani.  They had been living on their own, ever since their parents died when Amoni was 11.  They were all exactly a year, month, and day apart, with Jini born March 1, 1896, Amoni born April 2, 1897, and Hani born May 3, 1898.  With shoulder length, honey blonde hair, dancing, crystal blue eyes, and a slight tan complexion, their striking resemblance was impossible to miss.  Each one seemed to be a smaller version than...

Personal Narrative Competition 2018

Her Dance With Death

Many people are surprised to learn I asked for a milk cow for Christmas.  They’re even more surprised when I tell them I got one, but I never thought it seemed unusual.  The moment I saw her, I was in love.  Even if I knew the pain I would endure because of her, I would've kept her on the top of my Christmas list.  I would choose the tears because through it all, God stayed with me.  And to have God on your side is a miraculous thing.
    I got Sassy, my Jersey milk cow, two days before Christmas.  Instead of spending Christmas morning opening presents, or snuggled by the fire with a mug of hot cocoa, like I would've been any other year, I was out in the barn with burning hands, attempting to milk a cow.  And I loved it. It was definitely a life changing experience.  I became hooked on the homesteader’s life.
    Which is...

??? (Part four)

Rachel got up the next morning as if awaking from a delightful dream.  For a moment, she had herself convinced that it had been a dream, just wishful thinking, but something had changed.  The burning arrow of hate that had been consuming her had been plucked out of her heart, replaced with a blossoming flower of love.  Her mindset had flicked from despair to hope.  And then she remembered the magical words that had been spoken to her.  There was no way she could evoke such emotion with simply her imagination.  And that’s when she knew it hadn't been a dream.  God's love was real. 
Rachel practically skipped into the main room, happier than she'd been in 15 years.  She never even knew such joy existed.  She froze when she saw her mother, just a little bit of her happiness evaporating as they locked gazes.  Rachel thought she saw her mother's eyes flick, almost as if she inwardly flinched.   
"Rachel honey," Her mother's voice cracked, laden with emotion.  She glanced at the floor, bowing her head in shameful defeat, and began again.  "Rachel honey, I'm so sorry" She took in a shaky breath...

??? (Part three)

Rachel walked through a daze the rest of the day, desperately trying to forget the events of the morning.  She avoided her mother, not wanting to be reminded of her pain, but to no avail.  Everything triggered memories, no matter how hard she tried to forget. 
She would always remember the laughter following the words that now pulsed in her heart, bruising her with every beat.  She would always remember the humiliation of tripping in front of her accusers and giving them reason to condemn her.  She would always remember the rage that burned and steamed around her mother, concealed by the dull eyes of deceit, but finally unleashed upon her daughter for something neither could control.  Rachel would never forget the horror of being told by her own mother, to die.   
Rachel thrashed in her bed, her blanket tangled in a heap on the floor.  She didn’t feel the chill gently soaking into her burning body, for it did nothing to ease the pain.  Rachel couldn't even cry.  She was too numb to allow the relief of tears to come. She merely tossed and turned, as if in a nightmare, though she would...

??? (Part two)

The sun peeked over the horizon, brushing the world below with light.  Rachel managed a smile as she felt the soothing beams of warmth dapple her face.  Rachel loved the sun because it was something she could always count on.  It always came up and it always went down.  And it never made fun of her.   
Rachel plodded slowly to the well, a water jug balanced expertly on her head as she made the quarter mile trek.  She awaited in dread the scorn she knew was to come. 
Every morning, Rachel fetched water.  Every morning, the other kids gathered around her, teasing her as they tried to get her to talk.  And every morning, their words shot arrows at her gradually weakening defenses.  After 15 years of their scorching jests, she thought that she would be getting stronger, but she only weakened.  She felt like she'd soon collapse completely under their sardonic words. 
"Hey look!"  Rachel flinched as a cocky girl called to her friends to gather for the morning entertainment.  "There's Stutter!  W-w-what's y-your...


Rachel, the daughter of Israelites in Egypt.  Rachel, the slave.  Rachel, the twin to the baby boy who drowned in the Nile when he was only three days old.  Rachel, the one with a bleak future and dusty dreams, because Rachel was the girl cursed with a stutter.   
Why was she defined by this one imperfection? Why was she judged for something she couldn’t even control?  Why her?  These questions burned through Rachel's mind, setting off an inferno of blazing thoughts.   
Rachel grabbed a broom, hoping work would be the key to unleash quenching rain onto her fiery thoughts, before they burned brighter.  Why couldn't she be someone else? Anyone else would do, if they weren't crippled by the fear of what others thought.   
Rachel swept fiercely, as if she could brush out the evil she harbored in her heart.  It was no use.  Her mind was still sticky with the cobwebs of jealousy, no matter how hard she tried to bundle them up and fling them away.   Fifteen long years had been devoted to desperately trying...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

With New Eyes

I once
Met a boy
At Bible Camp.
His name was Sam.

This boy
I had met
At Bible Camp
Named Sam
Was blind. 

He couldn't
Watch the sun rise
See his mother smile.

He couldn't know
The color of the grass underfoot
His image in the mirror.

He couldn't understand
How other people read
The idea of racism.

His world was restricted 
To a sea of black
And an array
Of sounds,
Of tastes,
Of smells,
Of feelings.

It was Bible Camp.
So naturally
We begged God
To heal him
To let him see
To give him new eyes.
And God said


But not 
In the way we thought.

Sam couldn't see
A new image,
He could see 
A new perspective.

He can
Feel that God was with him
All along.

He knows
God made him different
For a reason.

He understands
God's will for him.

And sometimes,
I think Sam's spiritual eyes ...


The sky
Is alive
With flames
Of gold

The birds
They chirp
In cheerful
Good morning

The world
It awakes
In welcome
Of day

As I
I stare
In awe
As gold
Turns pink
Then fades
To blue

Empty Space

empty space
inspires me
i want to write
a poem
a verse
a story
telling the life
of this paper
this blank page
that can change
the world