lepinn

One year. Not a number. A testimony. Of what happens when prayer meets presence and patience falls in love with promise. You ... you’ve been the sunrise that stayed. The soft in the storm. The hymn I hum when silence feels like exile and deadlines steal my attention...ooh the deadlines... I’ve failed, faltered, but never… never stopped choosing you. You are the verse I keep writing in the margin of my life, the scripture God slid into my ribcage when He said, “Son, she is your home.” And home ... you are. In the curve of your laughter, the weight of your prayers, the strength in your silence when my words couldn’t find you. I remember nights you poured wine into my weariness, shouldered my storms like God had wired you for divine partnership. And maybe He did. Maybe that’s what covenant means .... not perfect Sundays or constant clarity but waking up on the 365th sunrise, still in love. Still leaning in. Still willing. So this morning, my queen, I don’t just say, “Happy Ann...

Listen swee'hear' 💋  I miss you... I miss you like the air I used to breathe before you filled my lungs... I miss you like my ribs ache for the weight of you pressed against them, like the way silence screams when it’s got your name stuck between its teeth. I miss you... Obsessively. Like a song I can’t get out of my head, your voice.... a vinyl spinning on repeat, scratching memories into the grooves of my soul. I miss you like the night misses the stars when clouds crowd the sky... like the way my hands itch for the skin they once knew... the scent of you lingers on my palms like smoke... and I swear, I swear, sometimes I still feel the echo of your fingertips tracing lines on my spine. I miss you like hunger... deep, gnawing, unsatisfied. Like a thirst no drink can quench ... you are the water I dream of drowning in. I miss you like a poet misses the words before they bleed onto paper, like the moon misses the sun at midnight... and mama, I’m just here, obsessing over the s...

To Mine🪻🦄, My body aches from the longing conjured by your absence Every cell bursts in wailing screams from the system design of time and space  Death would be a welcomed relief compared to the torture of being apart from you From the rose gold touch that relieves my depraved skin  From the dazzling galaxies that display the greatness of God through your eyes From the healing breathsborn from your gentle words that gladden my sobbing heart I am grateful to the Good God for His design to cross our paths. As we become one💍 I pray to beat my greatest for....space  for I miss you fondly. Your's Loving l, 🐻  Bear

I swear, some nights feel like war, like my mind and my body are stuck in a battle that neither of them signed up for. Like I’m running toward something I can’t see, but I still feel the weight of it chasing me, pushing, pulling— gravity made of guilt and ambition, dragging me somewhere between "not enough" and "too much." And me? I’m just here, lying awake at 3 a.m., rewriting the same sentence in my head: Why am I like this? Why do I wake up feeling behind in a race no one asked me to run? Why does life feel like a locked door and I’m the fool without a key? People say, "You’re worthy." "You’re enough." "You matter." And I nod, like I believe them, like I don’t spend every night replaying my own failures in slow motion, like my reflection doesn’t feel like a stranger I’ve been trying to make peace with. Because truth is— I don’t feel like enough. Not for love, not for purpose, not for the dreams that keep me gasping for air but never ...

..." I thought I knew enough about love,till I was stuck between my rough past and the mess in my hands, crippled by the shame in my heart ,my mind broken by images of you breaking down with tears in your eyes, there was no way out , I knew I had fumbled the love of my life with the hurt I had caused,I was blind to what was good for me and now it's about to be gone,but ain't love 'possed to be blind— I tried finding comfort ...."baby I gotta tell you sumn'...my heart protested the confines of my lungs and drummed freedom tunes with the urgency of a man on death raw... my tongue became a sharpened  nail that would hang me on a tree. I mean the last time I was honest it was used against me and who's to tell if this time I had better judgement, men I didn't even trust me , so trust me I was dying on the inside when I knew we were gonna have this conversation again I...was always a man of my word but lately I'm lost in space , as I keep going back (ba...

I imagine I wouldn’t like it if the seasons carried the winds, telling tales of how to love, choosing when to be warm or cold, never fully unraveling, because the time ain't right. How we'd hold it in, anticipating the passage of time, as if love were bound to its rhythm, as if space must bow to the dominance of fleeting days. But love— true love— is not a whisper of spring nor the hush of winter’s hush, not the burn of summer’s flame nor the crisp retreat of fall. Love is the sun that lingers, the fire that does not falter, a warmth that does not wait for the world to call it forth. It stands steady in storms, breathes soft in stillness, drapes the cold in gentle arms and welcomes every dawn the same. So here I kneel, hands in soil, tending roots, watching the sky, as you rest, delicate and free, on a lilac swayed by the wind. Little wanderer, do you fear the frost? Do you long for endless spring? Yet here you are, wings open wide, trusting that love outlasts the cold. If the ...