L is for the way you Look at me
O is for the only Ones I see
V is Very, very extraordinary
E is Even more than anyone that you adore, but
I is for the flags that I Ignored
S is for the Signs I should have read
N is for the Nights I stayed awake crying
O is for the Only solution I could see
T is for the Times I put my needs aside
E is for Every time I shrank myself
N is for it Never being enough
O is for the Outcome of a mismatch
U is for the Ugly side of love
G is for the Gangrenous effect you had
H is for the Hell that we can create for each other
May 8, 2024
May 8, 2024 at 6:54 AM UTC
The day we met I didn’t know what I was looking for,
But I liked the look of you.
I liked your comfort with yourself and the easy way you shared
And how when I was with you I felt like I didn’t need my walls,
that my secrets could be stories to share with you at night,
that my problems would be small compared to how much you wanted to help me fix them.
We had dates one and two on the first day,
and three, four and five on the next,
and now I can’t remember how many it’s been but each day with you has been a date on the calendar adding up to a year of my life that I never expected to go the way it did,
And I’ve loved all my moments with you.
You make the mundane beautiful,
The serious humorous, the dreadful bearable,
you teach me to love in a way I never thought possible
And you let me teach you, too.
You are my confidant, my conspirator, my defender and my partner,
My best friend and my love,
And with you I want to weather the storms of this life
Hand in hand, eye to eye, forevermore.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 1:30 AM UTC
God loves me,
doesn't He want me to be happy?
why must He do this
again and again
why,
why must I quaver with self doubt
bring myself to tears with doubt and shame
no one should feel like this, no one should be afraid
that their love for another person will send them to burn
for eternity- my eternity cannot be spent with someone else
and I am in agony, I feel as though
part of me is ripping in half
why do they tell me that it's because of sin
when it's just because they've been telling me
how dangerous and how evil, how wrong it is
that my soul wants something contrary to God's will
they've been telling me this over and over my whole life
it has never felt anything but right between me and God
until someone else came in and told me it wasn't
and I'm not sinning, I'm not acting, its just
the shape of my heart is different than they say God wants
but God fashioned my heart, didn't He?
did He not hold it in his hands and mold it with His fingertips,
teaching it how and whom to love
so that one day I may use it?
did He not plan every part of my heart out and
write my past and future,
why is it that I must ignore what He has written
into me with every pump of His own handiwork?
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
My heart sat still in the attic, carefully boxed up and tucked away in the corner for an unknown time and place.
I would take it out from time to time, examining it to see if it still worked. It was covered in marks from those whom I had offered it to. Some were gentle, leaving only thumb prints, but others were careless and left bruises, scrapes or cuts. The scars went deep in places and still caused pain when touched, while others were barely noticeable. With each new scar my heart became more calloused and yet more fragile, and I shared it less and less, scared it might break irreparably. So I packaged it up, tightly bound, stored it away in the recesses where it would be safe from harm.
And there it sat, in the corner of my attic, collecting dust, beating slower, slower still, until the pulse was barely perceptible as it faded to grey.
But then came you. You were charming, kind, loving. You opened yourself up to me, shared your heart freely, showing me how easy it could be. Your heart was bruised and battered, too, but you did not let that stop you. The scars made yours stronger, more vibrant, more lively than before. You let me hold it, offered it to me, told me its stories, and we shared your vibrant heart. It was wonderful, but we both knew one heart--however strong--could not support two people.
With gentle words you asked to see my damaged heart, with gentle breaths you blew the dust away, with gentle hands you undid the bindings on the box. You gingerly cupped my battered heart, massaged it back to life, held it close and assured me it would be safe with you.
I was distrustful at first, scared you would damage it even more. But as the hours turned to days and the days turned to weeks, you faithfully cared for my heart with your kind words, caring actions, tender touches.
For so long I was afraid of letting this happen, of giving my heart to another, but you are showing me it's okay to try, okay to trust, okay to love. You are showing me a life I never knew I could have, and moment by moment, touch by touch, word by word, you are bringing my heart new life.
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 5:34 AM UTC
I still think of you, you know
in the dead of night,
in the quietest hours,
in the lonesome dark
I still dream of you, you know
in my midnight slumber,
in my subconscious life,
in my somnambulistic searching
I still long for you, you know
when I feel that itch,
when relationships fail,
when I crave attention
I still think of you, you know -- Do you ever think of me?
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC