I've never been good at
Being touched.

Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.

New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.

Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.

Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.

So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.

Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.

So keep your hands to yourself.

at age 10,
my mother pointed
At the small birth mark
On my left knee and said,
"Someone's going to love
You for that one day."

At age 16,
I told her that a boy,
One far away,
Told me I was unloveable.
"He couldn't be more wrong,"
She promised.

At age 19,
She picked up my prescription,
And cried,
"I don't want you
To get your heart broken,
Mary." She sobbed.

The empty encouragements mean nothing,
When a daughter has decided
That the need to be tragically beautiful,
Is more important than the need
To be exceptionally loved.

On an old path a wooden cross stands. Beside the road it marks the way along a journey. It is a junction between two ways each leading to a different end. All of us will come to this point in our mortal journey and it is there we will choose. To continue on our worldly path or to take another way. At the cross road where Christ was crucified, we must choose which way we want to go.

I bow down and give up my burdens. I turn from the fight. I lay down before the cross of Calvary and seek to know your will. I sit in silence and wait on heavenly guidance. I accept the will of the one who made all things and seek to be taught his ways. In all things I surrender to the supernal power of the most divine. In humility I seek only to serve as a vessel for his will. I wait empty for his holy spirit to fill me. I shall be steadfast in the masters hands, until I  become what he wants me to be.