Select Page

A Journal in My Back Pocket

by | Oct 25, 2021 | Poetry

I keep a journal in my back pocket
I scribble to-do’s in receipts, in store pamphlets
I hold on to photographs to put in a locket
This is me trying not to forget.


I gaze a little longer into your eyes
I hug you a little tighter before goodbyes
My eyes close to feel your kisses and sighs
This is me trying not to forget.


When my memory fails to recite your every detail
Will you remind me, my love?
Tell me of Mabini St., of roses in the passenger’s seat
Tell me of calls past ten, and quiet moments unwritten.


Tell me that your love won’t ever fade
How the wind felt as we lied under the shade
And the sunlight danced in between the leaves
Darling, only you can put my mind at ease.


What good is sunshine in the spotless mind?
Let me write about the day our paths intertwined
This is me trying not to forget
So I’ll keep this journal in my back pocket.

0 Comments

Other Posts You may like

Grace for the Impatient Artist

Grace for the Impatient Artist

by | Jul 31, 2025 |

Starting something new often brings a rush of energy—followed by a flood of doubt. After days of pouring my heart into launching this blog, I found myself facing old fears: What if no one reads it? What if I lose interest? What if I’m not enough? But tonight, I’m learning to pause, be patient with my process, and cling to what’s true, pure, and praiseworthy—just as Philippians 4:8 reminds. This is me, slowly unlearning self-sabotage and learning grace.

Talent can only get you so far.

Talent can only get you so far.

by | Jul 9, 2025 |

He spent over 2,000 hours teaching himself piano from scratch—stumbling at first, then slowly finding his voice. His story is proof that greatness doesn’t start with talent; it starts with showing up. If you’ve been waiting for a sign to return to your craft, this is it.

Halfway Through the Year—How Are You Doing?

Halfway Through the Year—How Are You Doing?

by | Jul 2, 2025 |

Halfway through 2025, I find myself reflecting on the weight I tried to carry alone—real, pressing concerns about family, the future, work, and the state of the world. I clung to them tightly, thinking they could sustain me. But they didn’t. In the breaking, I was reminded: I was never meant to carry these burdens alone. Little by little, I’m learning to lay them down at Jesus’ feet—and to trust that He is still in the boat, still in control, even when the storm hasn’t passed.

Let’s connect