I'm a weak and anxious man, prone to insecurities that I only dare mumble to myself and my god and my therapist

--But mostly just myself, for fear of losing the others to the mayhem.

The brain is not a perfect vessel.

But you are. And still, the whispering comes at times

When we are far away or you are in my bed or we need a moment's space to breathe.

The wait is never long and we return to be as happy as sunshine

But periodic clouds cast a longer shadow

To those of (me) who lived in the darkness and learned to crave the bitter truth -- even when it was only with my eyes closed.

And isn't it sad? How I cannot hold tight the thing that I have more faith in than god? (Or even, often, myself...)

To see you smile up at me--perfect--and not be forever content??

Strike me down for my sins against you! **** the rooster if it squawks again; my denying days are finished.

Oh love, will you forgive a weak man in the eye of a storm?