The older I get the more I question whether I have ever truly loved someone.

A year ago, I would have said I did. I stumbled upon this intoxicating feeling of being found. Seen even. ACCEPTED. I saw him as my savior, rescuing me from my demons lurking in the shadows.

It was beautiful the way he looked at me, all knowing. It threw me to my knees. He knelt with me, kissing every indiscretion and ugliness. Praying this would never go away, I willingly surrendered my soul as he sensually sang his love for me.

With each refrain, I found myself converted. Obliviously, giving away my pearls to swine.

Like with every mere mortal, deception is too hard to keep hidden. Shattered with the reality of his facade, all that surrounded me were the demons I was running from.

My fears of his sins confirmed I had been rejected in my most vulnerable state, leaving me with nothing but shame.

A year later, I sometimes think of him and his silver tongue. I think of the flowery lyrics he lured me with and one line. This one line that led me like a lamb to the slaughter, "I would watch grass grow with you, Elisa."

I no longer question why I followed him, because I know.

His soul was broken like mine, just in different places. And as we held each other for redemption, his jagged edges left me bleeding.

Did I ever really love him?

That's the thing with false gods and reckless believers; you love what you think you know: deliverance.

Did I ever really love any of them? Or, did I love the promise of Heaven?

Blue flowers
blossom freely
bouncing silently
Between fresh blades

Bees fly busily
sensing
Feet
spring forward
beneath
blue skies

Soles
sink firmly
Feeling Blessed
by simple
Flowing breezes

My fingers are numb.
Pressing down on each chord,
I strum hoping to make a tune.
I hear a vague melody
Muffled by the uncoordinated digits.

This guitar is the sum
Of what my soul can afford.
With my relationships pruned,
These strings give me clarity.
Your facade fractured my spirit.

“I’d watch grass grow with you.”
A line I swore was true.
Unable to see the difference
Between a chorus
And
a verse.

Little feet trampling across the floor
Little hands swinging thru the air
Little voices raising as the adventure unfolds
Little eyes bright with beginnings

I was certain of the world with little feet, little hands, a little voice, and little eyes.

The world I believed in with just a little hope.

It is not often that I am
awake.
Eyes are open, but the view is aerial.
The mind in autopilot,
the body moves automatically.
A spectator to my own life,
Control eludes me.
Until suddenly,
I have a glimpse.
Consciousness grows.
My hands grasp
At the opportunity, Unwilling to let go.
I plunge into darkness.
Willing to submit to defeat.
The first conscious decision.
And, the last
as my autonomy
gradually
Drifts.

My head rests on your chest,
listening to the breath that is inhaled
in and out.
Mine just tightens
as I close my eyes and dream
that you loved me.
Hours earlier,
we are locked in sweat and moans.
Your eyes meet mine as you lean forward
and kiss me until I am yours.
You know what you want.
And I whimper in disbelief of the lack of more. "But don't you feel it too?"
You look at me, "of course I feel something.
But not enough to change what I want. And remember I don't fall."
I close my eyes
as I am swept in body heat and caresses.
My heart beats with a hollow sound
that my mind masks
with a dream of your demise.
You don't fall?
Well, I hope you trip as you chase me
when I leave.
But for now, I continue to fall asleep
to the rhythm of your breath
and the fantasy of your affection.

Each second of your tardiness just emphasizes how much you don't give a ****.