Holding tears of pain in my hands
my hands weak by the magnitude
of its power
looking to your grace to uphold my frame
for weakness has been my meal of transgression
without you I cannot venture onward
be my fortress to hold my fear in place
to be encompassed in light and glory
caressing me in Your devoted affection
Be my love,be my love,always be my love

I want to go there with you

You know, that place you whispered to me

Whilst I was deep asleep in your arms

Where the air is cool and the river awaits for our feet

With wild horses and overgrown fields of dandelions and bluebonnets

Take me there

And keep me there, like a gem you wear night and day

Passed down from unknown times

But precious to you

A keepsake worth more than all the coins that have ever passed through your fingertips

With a love so sweet you refuse to take the last bite, for then it will be no more

Take me there and I will always stay

Is waking up everyday a sweet life warranty?
Or is it the most cruel punishment for people like me?
You see, everyday is a Sea of Perpetual Agony,
What with my head filled with Stress and Anxiety,
With all my warped and f*cked up perception of reality.

With all the voices urging me to fail, for every step is steep,
The flashes of graves and coffins are memories I'm forced to keep,
With it in my dark Void of a bedroom I wallow and weep,
For even if I try to fight a little, I always trip,
Always landing in the pit of Depression hurting me with it's jagged tip.

You see, everytime I stand at a crowded grocery aisle,
I feel my stomach lurch and taste the bitter rising bile,
Even when I am ready to bolt and cover up the mile,
I just crumple there, a wheezing and weeping heaping pile,
Frozen yet I am burning in a hellish pyre made up of unwanted people smiles.

You see, people close to me kept trying to ease with a high cost,
To bring out the Happy in me from my heart covered in biting frost,
To make my eyes shine which already have an emotionless gloss,
To find 'Me', yet answer a question I have asked most,
How can you have found me if I myself am lost?

You see, every part of me screams in absolute Pain and Anguish,
Everyday a lethal poison more caustic than it is feverish
For every word I hear, claws from a monster so fiendish,
A cruel reality with dark creatures full of malevolence, ready to ravish,
You see... this is why for me Death is a welcome friend and my dying wish.

when you fall in love with an angel, you must understand that there are things you will never understand.

- when you first go to run your hands through her hair, her halo will slice your palm. and it will hurt like hell. she will mend it with the touch of one golden finger, and leave so abruptly that she is gone almost before you even blink. the thing you will see is her at the doorway. terrified eyes, blood stained hair.

(later, she will tell you that she never realized how breakable humans could be. when she explains what it takes to make an angel bleed, you begin to understand )

- ask her about the sky, about stars and suns and galaxies light years away. ask her whether or not the universe looks like a blooming garden. never ask about lucifer - she will become a soldier before your eyes.

and not, do not, donot, ask about god.

do not ask about rebellious older brothers and absentee mothers.

(do not infer about a war you know nothing of)

- in a science class you are taking simply for extra credit, your teacher will be talking about quantum physics. he will explain galaxies and refer to stars as "celestial bodies," but you won't be listening. suddenly you will only be able to think of the way her mouth curls at the sides, of the way her golden skin glows, of all the puckered scars that crisscross her torso, of the graceful arch on the bottom of her foot. celestial bodies are certainly on your mind but they are so much more than gas and light and heat and touch and --- oh heavens ---

when the teacher asks if you are alright, you will flush an even deeper red. supernova.

(at times it is lovely to be in love with an angel. but at other times, it is not)
- beware when you fight, it is like the world is ending. her anger conjures a thunderstorm, and soon the entire country is three inches deep in water. you shatter a picture frame. a bolt of lightning catches the house across the street on fire. you are screaming at the top of your lungs – something about duty, something about god – and there is a crash of thunder that shakes the foundations. the weathermen talk about the storm for days. you flinch and change the channel.

(no matter how right she is, she will always let you win)

- there are times when she won't visit for months on end, and when she finally comes back to you, she is not herself. there are new scars across her chest, and she does not speak. she sits with you in her arms for hours, her nose buried in your hair, and her arms squeezed tight, so tight. she does not cry. you do not cry.

you do(not) cry.

(but you do remember the miles and miles of white scarring. you wonder if angels are as immortal and unbreakable as they think)