I Go Crazy-Haired…

Bloggers! Friends! Family! Readers!


How are you surviving this crazy year? ❤

It’s been way too long since I posted on this blog, but never fear – I’m not saying goodbye or anything. I promise to continue to post, even if this year has been overwhelming. I’ve written a ton more poetry – which I really need to upload here for you – and am thinking of publishing a short story and poetry compilation sometime in the future! I also wrote my first fantasy (think magic and fairy tale retellings) this year, and it’s in the editing stage. So I’ve been busy writing, just not sharing as much. I plan on continuing to use this blog for book announcements, poetry, serious spiritual thoughts, and the random average musing. ❤

One hobby I picked up in quarantine, though, has brought me no end of joy. I bought a pink wig – and then I bought more wigs – and I pulled all of my cosplay and costume accessories out of my closet. I sat down with Youtubers and tutorials and I learned elaborate makeup, and I went to town. 😀 I started an instagram page with all of my looks, most of which feature The Pink Wig – although other wigs are sneaking in to get their share of the limelight. On the page, I put together costumes as well as create or mimic makeover looks. I’ve even become an affiliate for a makeup brand called Mellow! 😀 Crazy things happen in 2020, eh?

So if you’re a fan of funny artsy things, hope on over to instagram.com/thepinkwiglife to see these looks and more. I even cosplay as representations of a few of my novels, and you can see those looks in the top bubbles on the page.

Praying for all of you right now. That God will meet you and make Himself known to you and hold you in His arms this year. Reach out if you ever need prayer or a listening ear!


My head is full of charcoal
Sticky, chalky, stained
Discoloring and endless
It writhes and it pours
Out of the mouth in my skull
So scrub on your knees
My white rug is spotted
Blackness it bleeds
Yet if I’d scrub with water
The living water of Him
I find it actually lifts
And disappears onto
The chafing rag of His mercy
That doesn’t strike me where I stand
The interesting thing about charcoal
Is things come away whiter
Teeth, skin, carpet
Are fresher, snowy
Who would have thought that endless blackness
Those terrible stains
Would actually clean me
Until I shine


Not once but twice

Lost and pain, nerves on ice

Retching, groaning

Aching, moaning

Why wouldn’t I fear the precedent

Even if all assumes an accident

No joy in marching forward

Even though I’m lured

By the delight I forgot

Shrouded in the mass that failed a lot

Of us; yet try again – here we go!

The future I wish to know

Revelation 3:11

“Hold fast to what you have,

So that no one may seize your crown”

You have grabby hands


You have your own crown

But you want to dash mine to sharp metal shards

Your words breathe fire

Which melts the gold

Your bitterness tarnishes the mirror face

Like slow-creeping rot

Your empty actions pluck the gems like a scalpel

And it’s all I can do to fight you off

Often it’s my own hands

That remove the glittering diadem

From my very own brow

And shut it away in a deep drawer

My depression hiding my gift from the light

I look in the glass

And see a hideous beast

A mockery of the beautiful adornment

I’m supposed to wear

Some days guarding my crown

Is all I have the energy to do


At That Level

I’m at that level

The second strongest pain

I’ve felt the agony

At the very top

And this is one step removed

I don’t long to die

I’m not at my limit

But I’m a single level away

And so close to the end

This is almost worse

At level two

Because experience says

“You can take one more”

And hope says

“You survived one more

So why are you quaking now?”

The thing no one knows

Is people die at level two

They drown at level two

They raise their loaded gun

And they end if in surprise

Because the lie is

“But you weren’t yet

At that level”



You Miss Me

You miss me?

But I never left

You ran

When I was real

When my tears pooled

When I pushed back

When I said no

When who I really am inside

Was never what you wanted

Emotionally, you fled

You miss me?

But I never left

I am a chalkboard

I am a chalkboard

A magnet for scribbles

A smooth charcoal face

That none can resist

To soil

And once their words

Cover my skin

I am never the same

No matter how much erasing

And how much water

Tries to wash the smudgy remains

I am still smeared

With the dust and debris

Of words that were once written

On my heart



Who’s at Fault?

Who’s at fault?
Have you plugged your ears around me?
Or is it me?
Am I as obnoxious as they say?
When I scour my deeds am I blind?
Or are you perpetually impossible to please?
Have your passions overtaken your interest
In anyone other than you?
Or is this cycle an indication
That I’m unaware of how unlovable I am?
You make me feel insane, dear one.
Dare I try again?