Dearly beloved,

You are an ancient painting filled with radiant colors of wondrous beauty, pleasurable for all to enjoy, yet my hope is for I and I alone to explore and endure. I wish you could see what I see in you. You're afraid to love because you don't think you have much time left, but what if you're wrong? What if all of this is just a test of your strength and when you finally let go of all that is making you suffer you will begin to heal and grow anew. You can only hold on to pain for so long before it devours you whole. It's a senseless practice, practiced every day.  You eat up the darkness as though it's your last meal. You aren't disposable or recyclable, you are the embodiment of love and grace. And so I ask you this, why so fearful of loving and being loved in return? Would you rather not have been truly loved in its purest form of elegance and chaos, or take the latter and not be loved or love another at all? We have been denied the right to remember our past lives and whom of which we have loved in those lives. Our days are spent searching and scouring the planet for each other again, without a clue or definitive reason why we are searching, only an insufferable pull that shakes your bones. Knowing you must do this and you'll feel whole again. Yet we do it endlessly until our hearts can no longer endure the pain we have afflicted on it. Self infliction of our own convictions that we truly believe there is someone out there solely meant for us. Someone we fully connect with on a spiritual, mental, and physical level. A thought so deeply ingrained within us that we torture our hearts and souls until we are left with nothing but scars and empty valves and all the blood drained from our lifeless veins.

I wish you could understand you are the light by which sparks my soul, my heart, and inspires me to wake up every day and breathe life into my lungs. This ache encompasses the entirety of my being, and without you I don't know that I could carry on without losing the fundamental tools and skills in my brain to function on a day to day basis. And when I tell you I love you with all that I am and all that I will ever be, I mean what I say. I am not saying it for sake of saying so. These roots you have planted within me run deeper down through my core, implanting a strong hold, blooming leaves and budding flowers as our love grows. Don't you know my dear sweet love, you are everything in this world I could ever ask for or wish to be. You are the mirror reflection I gaze tirelessly in to everyday and I wish not for another mirror, I'd shatter every last one of them if you weren't the image looking back at me.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

When the leaf bud sprang and blossomed
I had always thought I was getting what
my heart infinitely wanted.

The sea of brown elevated my confidence
to masterful ancient artful levels

Though it wasn't you that had the mark
of the devil

You were a servant of the skill through
use of intellectual endeavors

Craving the red stained sweetness of
this rebels varying medieval
edible lips

All along the wood planked
grooves
Was a tactical move
one could not so easily forget

© 2014 Christina Jackson

And I'll write your name in ink
and pen
Over and over again

Until it smears and spreads-

Dripping from my blood
stained fingertips

© 2014 Christina Jackson

There is a certain amount of misery and sadness that emanates from within when two lovers part ways. Unmistakably so, a feeling permeating like the tails of a comet leaving trails of white hot light in its destructive path; Through the darkest parts of a hearts grieving wrath. The circumstances of separation are usually unimportant when viewed through the kaleidoscope like lens of a comets looking glass. If you blink right on time, you'll miss the haunted look blankly staring out in to the starry dark night sky. Yet all that was right and whole, in one fell swoop seems to disintegrate in to a mysterious black hole. It leaves your innards laughing devilishly scattering like asteroids on earths inevitable impact, scarred and ******. A state of unrest travels throughout the body as though anesthetics have been administered without fair warning.  

You have not the faintest clue there is a storm brewing on the horizon, yet your first instinct begs further investigation. It is not the clouds or rain that moves you, rather the lightning that strikes you down; Turning all that you are in to a fragile piece of glass. The subtlety of the shatter gives way like a **** breaking leaving no room for second guesses. Pure catastrophe heeds in the foreseeable path one travels upon. I cannot stress as much as I can detest a lighthouses warning to an incoming ship. Those waters need carefully charted and calculated maps. However, with or without, one is sure enough to hit the rocky shores and crash.
© 2014 Christina Jackson

And sometimes you just have to dive head first

into the rhetorical ocean called love

and lose all inhibitions

trust your heart

and follow it down

to the depths of

your hearts

core*

© 2014 Christina Jackson