somewhere between

Somewhere between
good morning and goodnight,
I found you.

And somehow,
even though you had
a future already imagined,
you wanted to create one with me.

I think we must have looked
at the night sky,
and seen the same stars.

Poem by J. Grace

She is Courage

She is not a bag or a box
To be shoved in a corner
Or placed on a shelf

She is insecurity
She is imagination
She is as strong
as she is emotional

She is a tender heart
That needs to be held
Not hidden

Let her out

She cannot grow into
Courage if she is not watered
With love.

Poem by J. Grace

This is one of those early morning poems that wake you up needing to be freed. We all have those little insecurities and quirks that just need our own acceptance before they can grow into our strengths. Whatever fear or part of yourself that you hide – stop. Don’t keep one bit of your brilliance hidden. Human beings are much too interesting to be perfect, and you are the sum of every imperfect thought, clumsily speech, heartbreak, and scar. Let the world see you.


My home is a cabin
on the edge of a current,
between the shore and the mountains,
guarded by tall, frightening trees
green with life and loving.

My home is a cabin
with steps leading up from
the barnacles bestrewed on the rocks
visited by small crabs with little claws
and my feet with little toes.

My home is a cabin
with a deck built of creaking wood
with crispy and wet flip flops,
grouped together in a sandy embrace,
whispering of fireworks and s’mores.

My home is a cabin
in the back of my mind
where only memories keep it lit,
the warm, orange light glowing beneath
the front door, always leading me back.

Poem by Poem by J. Grace

Screen Shot 2016-02-21 at 12.10.38 PM
A picture of the cabin my family would call home during the summer. It’s no longer ours; I have not been there for years.