Carving in and out of the sea of words I had spewed in anger and prayed in pain during those Nights, I watched the lyrics of my Night settling into a stillness of tear-stained submission and dependence. It gave me a chance to look back and see how I had searched with purposeless questions, purposeless other than to be sighed in hopes that each exhale might heave out a pang along with it. Yet now as I whittle out each letter, Yet now as I turn each wooden corner, I see that He has answered me.

The many silent hours spent carving and reliving the emotion wrought moments, in which I had lashed out in agony, connected my days to those nights, the me now to the me at Night

Scoliosis, Wood, Acrylic, Sleepless Nights

Carved:
Every night torture, save me soon. The salt mill on my pillow grinding stars and sanding scars. Bone dust moon.