Dead Come to Life

In death, there is no turning back, no last minute good deed, no “winging-it.”


The Fourth Scar

My scar is weakness sewn back together with Something much stronger: a Something that lets me laugh in the face of the anxieties we create for ourselves, a Something that is home no matter where I am, a Something that lets me look in the mirror and see the strength of the Rocky Mountains stand in perfection atop someone very weak, but very much at peace.