Creative Poetry Readings Spoken Word

Tuesdays are for Church

Poets Underground at the Acid Vault has admittedly saved my life numerous times the last five months. On days when nothing made sense and I felt I had nowhere to go, there was always Tuesday to look forward to. I’ve featured and hosted and headlined and cried on this stage more times than I can count. I’ve come to know people through their poetry, peeling back different layers each week to reveal deeper pieces of their hearts and their journeys. The journey is the beauty. We all arrive here for our own reasons and yet, we belong to something immediately.

This is my church. And last night in the hallway watching so many beautiful people pour into this space that carries so much meaning and significance, I penned what may be my favorite poem yet.


This is my church.
These are my people.

A sermon of the soul
through the pouring of words
finding worlds so similar to ours.
A world we thought
we were left alone to fight against
but turns out
we’re not alone at all.

Since discovering the only church
I’ve felt crazy enough to belong to.
I’ve witnessed wounds and traumas
and well articulated worlds
beyond my wildest imagination
I’ve seen creativity
in waves
that reminds me
of diving naked into currents
without a care in the world
I’ve caught tears
in my outstretched hand
and the chance to mend
broken hearts
in the same ways as mine.
There was a time
I wondered how
such magic could exist

It exists because of us.

I’ve invited strangers
and lovers and ghosters
and people questioning
the meaning of their lives.
I’ve survived my hardest days
and arrived here
to feel complete.
I go so far to say Loved.

I love church.
It’s taught me
We are all worthy.
We are all writers.
We are all poets.
We are all beautifully broken
pieces of a shattered mirror
finding the edges
perfectly matching ours
to hold a clear reflection
of the perfection
of our unity.
Our community.

Tuesdays are for church.
And these pews
are the only place
I feel I truly belong.



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