In A Room. Awake. Doing Well.

Photo by Zach Rogers on Unsplash

A Poem by Kendall Miller

I’ve started wearing color more, 

and buying tomatoes on the vine. 

Growing up hurts less if your

heart stays a little green.

I’ll call you when I get home 

and tell you the new parts: 

trying mead during a snowstorm, 

the slasher movie that made me cry, 

dreams where I am running and 

he is married but not to me. 

Lately I’ve been seeing the sunrise, 

a red blink through the blinds.

I kneel on the rug and let love take 

the shape of my mouth. Dear God,

tonight the moon is full and glows like an eye. 

I crawl into crumpled sheets, not tired

enough to shut mine.

Kendall Miller is a writer from Hanover, Ohio. She recently graduated from Belmont University and lives in Nashville, Tennessee. She is most passionate about poetry and prose that points to the love of Christ that is present in all of our stories.