These nights I pretend to myself
and whisper to myself that

its not only you but,
alas,
you are confused why it still pervades you.

But I am told that
God calls lying evil sin.
And through Eden,
God tried to say to the world -
that lust is demolishing.


( but who is god to say)
it’s all so beguiling
and delirious.
and god yes it’s demolishing,
when reality resurrects every day and I am
thrown  to watch it before me
even if I close my eyes
or bite my tongue till blood.

only the  false sins I whisper
will wipe the blood clean.

he taught me, showed me vividly
that the most harrowing ache
can become the most beautiful masterpiece.

he put tools in my hands,
held them and demonstrated before me how
my throbbing cries my desperate grieving
can be carved masterfully into art.
-
I'm hammering and outlining and carving
each day,
I'll display it one day when I finish.

I just hope you'll see the day

again,
you hold my vulnerability at gun point
and I've felt you collide your tips with the trigger,
so very many times.
but its all just so helplessly beautiful
that I never refuse the bullet

{bangbangbang}

all this time
my back was turned to your face.
I walked only on the paths that ran
anti-parallel to yours.
my hands grazed before me on the stone,
naked knees were scuffed and skin ragged
lugging myself along the grounds
as I crawled forlorningly away from you.

when honestly, the only destination
that I ever intended to arrive to,
was your arms.