So much time used up
On something I thought
Would be lifelong
That was murdered by the creation.

So much time used up
Filling my voids
Bandaging my wounds
And avoiding my heart.

So much time used up
Having sleepless dreams
Eating anxiety soup
and trying to break my mind.

So much time used up
Washing my face in tears
Putting on the makeup
That masked my dead face.

So much time just,
Used up.

Then you.

So much time used up
Listening to that voice
Soothing as the breeze
Scary as the ocean.

So much time used up
Letting our souls out
Talking about anxiety meals
And holes barely stitched together.

So much time used up
Learning all about your heart holes
Stitched with gut wretches
As she made every hole.

So much time used up
Grabbing your hands
And showing you how to sew
And we sewed each other up

So much time used up
After we realized we shared
The same string to sew our hearts
and now they connect forever.

So much time used up
Listening to our heart string tunes
Play a new song
Of soul love

So much time used up
Laying head on stomach
And afternoon laughs
Sprinkled with our breaths

So much time used up
On dreams of you
Anxiety soup isn’t
Served here anymore.

So much time used up
On never having enough
Time with you,
My love.

I am so afraid of talking to you
Reality let loose by your venomous soft lips is hard to hear
The few messages I send have no response
The pain that ensues pursuing an answer from you is where my fear resides
Besides believing in a miracle to happen
Directing my satin sails back to clear waters
I do not deserve such a beautiful ending
Or do I?!

Kisses.
Sweet and soft.
Childhood.
Innocence.

Faster.
Heavy breathing.
My heart, it beats
I can feel every pump.

Stomach.
Leaping,
Then diving.
Roller coaster.

Clothes.
On, happy.
Slipping, and scared,
Hands grasp at my dress.

Kissing.
Scary.
Breathless, gasp.
Closed mouth.

Faster.
Head spins.
No.
Say no fast.

Stomach.
Dead leaper.
Alive fire.
Tucked into lungs.

Clothes.
Battling hands.
Defeated hands.
Clothes off.

Kissing.
Forced.
Lost consistency
Dead.

Faster.
No, no, say it fast.
Breathe.
Fast pumps.
Pumps of pain.

Stomach.
Empty.
Hollow guilt.
Swelled up alcohol.

Clothes.
Gone, missed.
Coveted bedsheets.
Grasping for cover.

Kissing.
Dead.
No more.
Death.

Walls.
Build them up.
Break them down.
Build them taller.

Every word, every whipser
Is either adding a brick
Or taking one away.
But never staying the same.

You broke it all down
And I threw away the bricks.
I didn’t know that I should have saved
At least one.

You came in and looked around
I let you move right into
Every corner that used to be guarded
By the walls i put up.

Slowly, I forgot where i even put my bricks.
I wouldn’t need them anyways.
You took them all away,
But i didnt know you would steal them.

You lit the bricks on fire,
And you burned the house down.
See, you still had your bricks up
And built more with mine that you stole.

I am left brickless.
Its almost like im homeless.
Everything is out,
Nothing is protected.

But you.
You are walls that are miles high.
I can see the bricks you stole from me
Scattered about your walls.

But while im laying on the ground
That is the only thing left after the fire
I look around and notice,
There is sunlight.

No walls are up,
And the mind is shattered.
But while yours is built up and safe,
Mine, has the sun.

Sometimes i remember
The nights of alone
Not laying in bed just by myself
But truly, completely, alone.

Its dark outside
But that doesnt compare
To how dark it is inside
This house of flesh.

Skin, bones, muscle
I learn every day about them,
How they move, how they express
But not how they love.

Isnt it crazy
We use these parts to love
But these parts alone arent anything
Other than bodies just touching bodies.

What about thoughts?
Are thoughts love?
A human brain has thoughts
From the time its born to death.

When do we formulate thoughts of love.
To our mom when she nurses?
Or our dad when he checks for monsters?
Dolls, toys, trucks, when is there love?

But the soul is different.
There is no soul scan
Or soul therapy.
It just, is.

Its alive without being woken up
Its there when everything is broken
But what is it filled with?
Spirit, passion, love.

It is not in our bodies to love
It is not in our brains to love
It is in our soul
Our third part.

Maybe that is whats missing.
I forgot to feed you.
Youre withering away
Like anything would.

A body without food is broken
A brain without books is empty
And a soul without nuture,
What happens then?

Broken. Empty. Death.
A soul without nurture is dead.
Nothing happens without a soul.
No life, no love, no awakening.

Was my soul here from the beginning?
Is there a start and end to you?
There is to my body and my brain
But what about you?