Mud & Mercy

   They say mercy lives in churches. But I’ve found more mercy in back alleys, city shelters, and the hands of people with nothing left to lose. Real love doesn’t show up clean — it shows up when you’re muddy, broke, and too tired to pretend you’re fine.

One winter I slept under an overpass with someone who gave me the only blanket they had. No words — just the simple act of covering me up so I didn’t freeze. I never learned their name. That was love. Real, raw, free of conditions.

This is why Catfish Heads exists: to remind you that the ugliest nights can still hold mercy. That your own love story might be crawling through the mud — but when the sun comes up, the mud grows lilies. Believe it.

— Catfish Heads