I want to start this with a question.
Why, you may ask.
Because I know that there is power in questions
There is beauty in pondering and wondering
There is value in trying to understand the unfathomable
To try to rearrange the heavens into shapes and patterns
That makes sense to us
Questions hold such potential
I mean just a simple "what if?"
Was enough to launch men to the moon and back
Was enough to bring empires to their knees
Was enough to get that girl to go out with me
Questions make the impossible possible
And the intangible real.
They make infinity seem just a leap away.

I'll remember your absence
For its the only thing you left
The empty seat next to me
The oddly cold feeling on my chest
The missing cups of cold tea
With only a tad left
Placed mindlessly
In the midst of beautiful thoughtful revelries
When your fingers left indentions in your dress
Indentions in the grass where you slept
As if they were just as hesitant
To see you leave
That they held your shape just to remember you were there
I'll remember your absence
For its the only thing you left

I have been a hero to some
A villain to others.
I am woven throughout many stories.
I am sometimes the voice of reason,
Other times the voice of regret.
I have played a part in victories
As well as quite a few defeats.
Sometimes I lose myself in the unintentional damage I have done,
And try to dig myself out with the damage done to me, but it always falters.
I think the problem is
I am quick to forgive those who harm me
But can't forgive myself for what I've done to them.

An anchor, is my soul
Resting in placid waters
Steadfast in its hold
On my restless heart
For it knows
The places to remain and those to depart
As I am subject to the moving forces of the world
Being a ship resting over the deep
And though the distance between
My soul and me
May grow and shrink
I find peace knowing that
Though we may lie leagues apart
My soul stays grounded as my heart drifts so far
An anchor, is my soul
set aflame by the Holy Ghost

When the world thins
And my senses become hollow
I can still define the lines of your fingertips
When colors dull
And light slowly bends
I can still find the soft hues of your warm auburn eyes
When my breath runs away
And I can't slow the beating in my chest
The sight of you is where I find my rest
Oh how the way you look at me stills my heart
And though my mind may still scream
And my aimless anxiety may steal reason from me
I can endure knowing the clarity you bring

Here am I on my knees
Crying to the heavens
Tearing my shirt over the sins that are drowning me
My sorrow knows no bounds
For I have failed
I have tripped and fallen down a *****
That there is no hope
Of ever returning
Yet you have reached out
And pulled me off of my knees
You have clothed me
In the splendor of royalty
You have set a crown upon my brow
And now allow
Me to sit at your feet
How can a sinful creature such as I
Hold the eye
Of such a glorious God
How could the maker of the stars
Hold someone as wretched as me
I come to the throne humbly
It seems the least I can do
To return each breath of life blessed to me back to you
Direct me through the nations
Spreading the word of your glory
I can not comprehend how I could ever contain such a message
It spills out my mouth like an everlasting stream
These words shine bright
With the message of life
For every sentence that contains his name
Shouts forth his infinite praise
May the fire of the Holy Spirit set ablaze
The nations in Gods holy ways

Your presence demands the attention of all those in the room
It is like a scene
From one of those overused princess movies
And though there isn't much to do
My eyes keep returning to you
Oh the magnetism of your smile
Of the way that you wrinkle your eyes
When they by chance meet with mine
Could it be that there is reason
To these wonderfully awkward meetings
Or are you merely surveying the room
I quietly count the number of times
When in my planned and measured tactics
To ensure that you don't see my interest in  you
The number of times which your gaze is already meeting with mine
Quickly looking away and brushing your hair from your face
how many times you would quickly turn away to divert attention in a way
Hopefully showing that you are trying not to be caught in your process too
In this theory, I somehow build up enough courage to cross the room
With a path clearing as though this quiet audience knew
That a silent game
Was being played
In this space
That I was now attempting to cross
And as that distance closed
I saw a light in your eyes
That showed that maybe I was right
To hope for a reason behind these wonderfully awkward meetings

The placebo ticks are numbing my mind
After my imaginary friends have all stormed off
These Freudian slips are my only comfort
As they give me hope that there is something under this rotting facade
I swear it was beautiful long ago
I know that is hard to believe seeing how it is now
But that pile of rubble once was my pride and joy.
I built up this faux appearance of self confidence
Along with just enough structure as to hold it up but not enough to be real
So now, here I am, raw
Unprotected against the elements
The towering spires attracted them
The stone throwers
And as expected it came down with the first couple of pebbles
But I love those minutes as those spires fell
For it was that destruction that made place for the cross
That worthless skeleton made way for this hope
Hope that I can be more than this facade
That I can be this person that I tried so hard to hide away
Under layers of protection and false fronts
Because that cross told me I was beautiful
It told me that I was worth revealing because I was his

Where will you lie if you are right
In the ground with all those who have died
Those who's names are inscribed in the marble above
Their acts may be printed in some book
Or their love may be remembered by those who held their hearts
Remembered by yellowing love letters
Scribed by shaking hands
But if you are right it is worthless
Though knowledge may comfort us in our death
You will receive no solace in being correct
For you won't exist
Your mind won't be there to comprehend
The justified emotions of being right
But what if you're wrong
What if the discarded message of salvation
Was more essential than you could have ever known
What if there is a father who will weep
Knowing that you threw away his grasping hand
And rather chose to harshly descend
In a sorrow so deep and unknown that our earthly minds can't comprehend it
So if you're right there is nothing
No consequence
But if you're wrong

How long is too long to be silent
I've been counting the quiet
And only now am I questioning
Why it's there
Perhaps it's the colour of your hair
Or the way you move your fingers through empty air
Playing a symphony on a piano that's not there
Or maybe I'm just being weird
Which is just as likely, if not more so, than the former
Yet you don't seem to notice either
After all, silence depends on the lack of input from all parties involved
Perhaps my actions are likewise stilling your words
Maybe you're as lost as I am
In this conversation of actions
Teaching us the thoughts of one another
In a way beyond syntax and inflection
By the way your fingers move, I bet you're a musician
And I'm sure you've deduced my obsession
With writing by the way my eyes
From time to time
Stare off to the side
With me following the life
Of a character that materialized in my mind
But of course that is all merely wishful thinking
In fact
I almost begin to gather my books into my worn rucksack
Signaling my surrender
When you offer a quiet smile
And I become content, once again
In our unspoken conversation

I find myself in the books I keep by my bedside at night.
I imagine the words slowly seeping into my dreams
And painting the skies with the oddest shades of green
And the rivers that flow through the restless land
Move along with the breath of my lips
That I see rustling the sails of the ships
Waiting for the wind to send them to lands unknown
Yes, I find myself in the books
That I have stacked on the pillow by my head
And for the hours that I allow my mind to fly
I am the hero
I am the knight
Saving the damsel in distress
I am the weary and tired traveller running into the arms of my beloved
I am the one facing the dangers of the dark
And in that moment,
I am fearless
Not because I find courage in the space that exists
Between dreams and reality
But because in that moment
I know that, though those words may be chained to that page
That they are part of me.

The strands of hair weaving back and forth
The delighted squeals of a young ******* her first day of school
Her mom returns the smile that is radiating from her daughter
She can see in the gleam of her eye
The dreams swimming through her mind
Of fairies and princes
And a castle on a hill

The strands of hair weaving back and forth
The delighted laughter of a young woman on her last day of high school
Her mom gently places the graduation cap on the head of her daughter
She can see in the gleam of her eye
The dreams swimming through her mind
Of the unbridled future
And all that will come

The strands of hair weaving back and forth
The delighted blush of the new bride on her wedding day
Her mom wipes the joyful tears from her daughters eyes while ignoring her own
She can see in the gleam of her eye
The dreams swimming through her mind
Of the groom that held her heart
And a little girl yet to come
Who's hair she would weave back and forth

The blade is drawn across her porcelain skin.
She screams as her weak attempts to heal herself fail again.
One for every imperfection.
They line up like tally marks
Counting off the cruel delusions
That haunt her in the dark.
Their stones broke through her
Like plates crashing on the floor.
Now the red cracks are spreading
As she fails to reach the door.
And in the quiet of the night she shatters.

The end of the gun is pressed against his head.
He weeps As he remembers all of those who fed
Those indecencies that have devoured him.
There is nothing left
He is an empty husk
He took out everything that they didn't like
And placed it at their feet asking is this enough
And It never was
So he kept carving to become something they were pleased with
Something they could actually look at
Until he realized they had taken all of it
So He had to take the chance
That this gun was the way to gain their acceptance
This was what they always wanted
And he would give it to them
The last remaining part of him
And with a loud bang he shatters.

This is our generation
Filling our emptiness
With the realization
Of our weakness
We are makeshift puzzles of perverted desires and empty holes.
Never quite being whole.
Placing idols and obsessions as our foundations.
Eventually it all falls apart,
But out of the dark
Rose a cross.
Bringing hope for healing
And completing
The holes that had been there since the beginning.
Light floods through the cracks
That acted as maps
To our wandering souls.
Once tracing the way
To destruction
Now leading to a rebirthing
Into the life of one made whole.
There is hope in the road less taken.
For in it one finds home.

This chaos is choking me
And here I stand trying to make something of it.
The world demands order
Yet I am unable to connect these dots into a comprehendible picture.
My thoughts burst through the floodgates.
Leaving me to bear the full force of this raw confusion that is sweeping over me.
I want to be able to rearrange this disorder into something eloquent,
To be able to state it in a way that will make an impact,that's all.
I want to make a mark that will last long after my body is dead and gone,
But the marks that we make are too often scars.
The constellations we arrange in the skies too often fall apart.
It is a cruel cycle that I shall now become a victim of,
Yet hold on
Hold on and grasp those broken heart strings that I leave behind
And use them to tie the stars together and show the world the beauty I see in you
Collect the lights I found in your eyes and paint a picture
That will immortalize the way I look at you
Our time was short yet it seemed like an eternity
And I will always rest in that small infinity we shared

There must be a creator for I can feel the artwork of the stars inside of me
The brushstrokes of the mountains within my genes
I can reach for the heavens, see the things hidden, and believe
Believe in he who painted the seas
He who breathed
Life into being
Into beings like me
Though minuscule we are
Who can recreate the beauty we see
From you, the almighty
The source of all
Beginning and end
The blessing in our bones
The one who bled
His soul into our own
He who signed his life into our veins
I am forever thankful for the ability he has given me
To laugh in joy and in sorrow weep
The ability to see beyond the veil
That separates the people
The body of Christ
Unified in his sacrifice
Yes, there must be a creator for my soul has found solace
In a world that only knows suffering

She was quiet
as if thinking of her favorite story, or song
yet I, knowing them all
knew that this couldn’t be the reason
for her sudden silence.
My heart beat quickens
her eyebrows arch,
and I remember the day we met
in the back table of the coffee shop she loved.
I said hello, and she said “why?
Where could this go?"
She said “we could talk.”
“you could buy me a cup of what you may suppose
would be my favorite coffee.
Probably some darker roast
with some mixture of cream
highlighting the coffee’s floral notes.
I would pretend to like it
though you would later find I only drink tea.
We would leave, and I would give you my number
because I’m awkward, and by the look of things,
we would talk about our wants, our desires, and dreams,
and stay here way too late, I would get more coffee
to complete my act,
and by the end of the night you would probably have swept me off my feet.
We could go on a hundred more date,
and find that we love each other.
We may last a couple more months, or years,
but we would end up here.
Me sitting with nothing to say,
and you too sad to move on.”
I said, putting down the coffee I had bought for her,
“well the first part sounded good.”
As her mouth draws into a line, I fear we may have reached the end.
My heartbeat races, knowing from the beginning how this would go.
She would say “this isn’t working anymore, this thing we’ve tricked
ourselves to believe was going somewhere.”
and I will try to capture everything, the look of her hair, the gleam in her eyes
to maybe save my memories from the coming crash.
She begins to talk with hesitance in her voice,
something that I haven’t heard there many times before.
“I know I made a promise, at the beginning of this thing,
I know you pressed on hoping for the best,
and I know I may have eventually led you to believe
that we had beat the odds, or at least my dim look at them.
You know I’m a mess, a cynic, and even a ****, but you stayed
and kept hoping.
Maybe it’s contagious because I have found myself hoping too.
Hoping my predictions were wrong,
and I think, looking at you,
looking at us, I have never wanted to be wrong more in my entire life."

As the day closes
There is a resting heartbeat
That echoes through the land
As breathing draws out
Into a yawn
Turning to the promise of dawn
Though the dark may be fearful
And full of horrors
It is the promise of day
That makes the night passable
Even a pleasure
For we know that we can rest assured in this peaceful darkness
When we know that it’s end is marked

Dear Beloved,

  I have traveled through the land trying to find a place for us. I've been watching the sunset from the hills that line the country trying to find one worthy of your beauty, and I've become afraid, for it is an impossible task. Please forgive me for sounding sentimental, that isn't the purpose, yet I have found myself unable to find a place perfect for our dreams. Looking for trees that will sing the best harmony to our lulling minds as the winds of the night blow across the star laced meadows. A place where the hillside is painted the color of your deep green eyes, yet I am troubled. For I'm afraid it doesn't exist. I have found that you have ruined me, for you caused me to believe that the things of dreams were able to translate into reality. You are my captured fantasy and I'm concerned that I'm being selfish in asking for another. So while there may not be the perfect place for us, I know that in your gaze I have found a home.

Yours truly, and yours alone

The air of brotherhood once flowed so freely between us.
Midnight hours coming with no notice and little care.
Silences that stretched through the night,
A conversation which spoke the most profound sentiments of fellowship.
Though you may quickly wish away those days,
Or rather read them with regret.
I am not so quick to vilify the part you’ve played in this story.
Though the blood between us has froze,
and though the pain you have caused is insurmountable,
I will not make you a villain, like you have made me.

I dream
As we sit in a star laced scene
I wish I could be your everything
Yet
As the words form on my lips
I realize a kind of awkward thing
you can't be that to me
I know that sounds kind of ****-ish but let me explain
I'm not incomplete
And you're not my missing piece
So why do I want to be yours
I don't want to be your world
I want to be my own
And if that means that we're not in each other's orbits anymore
So be it
For, when the night places things where they're meant to be
I know that I can't be your everything
Because you're already complete
There is no hole for me to fill
Or a gap where I perfectly fit
Or any other one of those pastel pictures
That we love to define love with
You are more than that
and the love that we share
is not some dependent creature
Needing our constant filling
For when I am the only one giving
I am certain it will devour me
So let it be
Place it on a shelf with the rest of your trophies
because we must either start again or end whatever this is
For dependence must never be confused with love.

I don't know
How quickly
This distance is closing
Between you and me
Sometimes I imagine myself
Following a line of string
Through a forest of densely knit trees
Weaving slowly 'neath the bending eaves
And hoping that I will soon come into a clearing
Where you are all I see
Holding the end of this bright red string
And that it would be that easy
But sadly it's not
I'm afraid I'm merely lost
Finding signs where there are none
Maybe you'll just grow tired and come find me
Sitting under a tree writing piles of romantic poetry
Just twiddling my thumbs
Which is just as likely.

I see her in my dreams
Now I know that may be cheesy
But with me it has a completely factual meaning
She is literally in all of my dreams
Though I can't say that I mind it
But the problem is I dwell on things obsessively
I don't really know when to stop
So you can imagine my ire
To the fact that when I do successfully block my thoughts of you
They only wait until I'm asleep to make it passed my guard
And now here you are
Standing in front of me
Making it difficult to discern if this is reality or a dream
For currently you make up the majority of both
Yet you speak in a way that I had never even had the courage to hope for
Not even in my wildest fantasies
Asking "would you want to get coffee with me?"

I want someone who can hold my hand as it slowly ages
Someone who can take the pains of what time steals away
And make it worth it
Just to wake up to her face
Watching it reflect the wrinkles being drawn over the passing days
And always being able to see the beauty that first enamored me with her
I don't just want a love that lasts
I want a love that ripens with age
A love that grows as our hair grays

There was something about the way she would close her eyes when listening to a song she liked.
It was as if she was creating a world behind her eyelids, moving along with the lilting lullabies she enjoyed so much.
When her eyes would eventually flutter open, she would try to hide it, but I would see a flash of sadness.
I was lost in her ethereal nature. Her fingers that danced through blades of grass that only she could see.
Weaving her way through shadowy trees planted in wide reaching glades.
Splashing through puddles like they were oceans and she, the storm, stirring tempests within them.
A queen, was she, crowned with clouds dictating orders to imaginary soldiers,
to save the inhabitants of the land.
Though her eyes were always seeing beautiful things, mine were only graced with her, and that was more than enough.

Little girl
Is your sky still whole
Still held together by the stories you are told
Can you still see without boundaries
Gaze at the horizon and claim it as yours
Gather the stars and call it your kingdom
There will come a day
When the slumbering dragon awakes
And steals you away
Your nights will burn and your sky will break
But don't you worry
For with every dragon comes a knight in shining armor

How do we fall?
This question quietly sits
In my head as
My eyes rest on your lips
It is astounding, how the air quietly closes around us
Entombing us in the time that exists between the words
That at this point seem superfluous given the state of my mind
I am currently in free fall waiting for something to catch
And I continue to grasp
Yet it is in vain
For the way your hair falls from your braid
Has dissolved all ground beneath me
How could you look at me in that way
That buckles my knees
I do not know how I am carrying on
For I am falling without hope of ever getting up

As if the stars were falling
And I, a speck of the skies
Feared for my minuscule life
I can't think for those who once held me up
Have let go
The ties I thought were so strong
Have decomposed
And I am falling like a meteor
Being tossed from its celestial home
And I am bracing for impact

I wish that joy etched it's name into my bones, the way despair does.
Happiness is flighty and wisp-like,
While sorrow sinks and clings to hope until it erodes it all away.
Exuberance doesn't follow one around for more than a day, a season, a minute, yet depression can stalk it's prey for a lifetime.
My main thought is that, if joy is so good, why does it leave so quickly, and if despair is so bad why do I cling to it so tightly.

It was in the way she looked at me.
A tenderness I hadn’t seen,
That made me wish that we
were the only ones to see these stars
and dream these dreams.
I watched her walk down the aisle
with a bouquet of rain, dandelions, and beautiful things.
We were kids, yet we held our dreams in our hands
hoping to grasp tightly to them as long as we could,
yet loosely enough for them to take flight
carrying us by their kite-strings.
Dreams made of cotton and twine.
Trying to put together a masterpiece
one piece at a time.
It was in the way she looked at me
that made me see,
I would do anything to build a life
and tie together dreams
to make something beautiful
for her to see.

I am drowning in a sea of anxiety...
Wait maybe I should put that differently
I am buried beneath worry
Well not so much that...
But I am definitely distraught
And at the very least I am very confused
About what you do to me
I mean here I am minding my own business
Trying to convince myself I am content in my loneliness
And then you show up
Seeing my efforts as all in vain
I'll have you know I was fairly happy pretending I was happy all along
And by fairly I mean not at all
But I had learned to hide that foot note deep enough
That no one would know
But you did didn't you
You saw how hard I was trying
To maintain the face
That I put on to cover the me that I didn't want to be seen
I tried with such desperation
Because truth be told I find it ugly
I have spent a vast amount of time
Looking and investigating the inner parts of me
And I really find it disgusting
Yet when you gaze through my facade I feel comfort
That you can look at me and not be afraid
Or revolted at what you see
Which confuses me more

Oh how stars fall
Or rather not
For though it may seem
As if these celestial bodies
Could become dislodged from their places in our sky's
Rather what we see is fiery dust
Flying through our hopeful minds
Being glorified as these magnificent beings
So the things we place our wishes on
Though we think they are permanent fixtures of infinite strength
Thinking as if those shooting stars will fly forever
They are instead greatly brief in their existence
What we see is the end
Of their long flight across space
So perhaps it is a good picture of a dream
Living a far flung life
Until it reaches reality
And what may seem
As a streak across the sky
Is really it's descent to the ground

I wish I had known that holding onto this anger so tightly would make it take root.
Others would talk of joy being a seed that sprouted in time of oppression and indecency,
Yet I have found this to apply to all.
What you plant will grow.
What you feed will take root,
And anger, like a ****, will choke all else out.
A little seed, tossed by the wayside, without purpose, or design, has grown to swallow my mind.
Choking off sustenance from my joy, peace, and love.
It made me feel better for a time, it truly did.
It seemed dignified and eased the pain.
So I didn't get rid of it.
What you plant will grow.

She was in the space between here and there.
You see, I try to jump from point a to point b, without a thought to the steps in between.
I found the search for meaning in the journey to be futile,
Yet that is where I found her.
She sat at a coffee shop, sipping on tea,
While reading the eyes of the shadows moving through these spaces,
Familiar haunts like me, unrealized silhouettes,
Without gravity in the moment, yet promising authenticity in a day that was as fantastical as they were.
Eyes were drawn to her,
the way that she filled up the room,
the only physical thing, in this group of ghosts, shadows
those betrayed by promise and hope
and hoping the world would pay them back
for the loan, and a poor one at that
a miserable job for a dilapidated home
doorways they won’t grace but for those sacred few hours
food for kids who don’t see enough of them as is
Now don’t get me wrong, I did see it
I saw it in her fingers,
that tired fiddling as if her hands couldn’t stop moving
in fear that they couldn’t get started again
In the way her mouth sat, trying to smile
but still heavy as if unspoken words were weighing them down.
Her eyes stared as though she was so alone in this alien world.
She lived in the in-between, and that is were I found her.
For a fleeting moment I wanted to stop.
To slow down and hear her story.
This mystic individual of substance in an immaterial world,
But my feet wouldn’t stop, my hands wouldn’t stop moving.
I had forgotten how to slow down and I found myself orbiting her
as a tiny comet would get caught in the gravity of some celestial sphere.
I was merely a ghost, a common haunt,
Passing through this physical space for merely a moment.

They say, your palms tell stories
With flesh as pages and indentions as the vocabulary
Yet I wonder where I lie in the palm of your hand
Am I that scar you got when you were six
Trying to cut your handprint out of colorful pages
Or that callous you have from caring for your garden
And always holding onto things, and people, far too tight
Now that I think of it your hand is a reflection of who you are
I love how it tells a story with every line
How it speaks of your beauty with every imperfection
But most importantly, I love how it fits perfectly into mine.

Can you seriously not see what you are doing to me
I'm looking at you like you hung the moon
Yet it doesn't seem to faze you
I am choking on the butterflies that have outgrown my stomach
And yet you still look at me with those unwavering eyes
Oh those eyes
How they destroy me
I am left to romanticize these ideas you planted
Each growing into a beautiful flower in its own right
Words are flowing from my mouth yet I have no hold on them
For my mind is a little pre-occupied
Questioning those eyes
That still have a hold
On my panicking soul
I am afraid that I have found myself
Falling head over heels

He sees her
The clichés that
He was always quick to dismiss
Now fill his head.

He meets her
The butterflies in his stomach
Take flight
Leaving him breathless.

He falls for her
As the words hang on her lips
He tumbles head over heel
Knowing he would never find the ground again

He asks her
As the butterflies reach his throat
He  chokes
But she still says yes

He dreams of her
The light of her eyes
Has burned the sight of her
Into his mind

He waits for her
At the foot of the stairs
And can only stare
As the princess makes her way down

He is stunned by her
His lips refuse to part
To allow any breath to replace
The one that she had taken away

He leads her
From the hall
He wants to rip the stars apart
Just to find her heart

It was such an easy love
Pure and new
Unscathed by scars
From trials they were bound to go through

There is within me a fire
I feel it burning from the ends
Of my calloused fingertips
As if it is exceeding my soul
When I recede, it grows
At my end, it echoes
Into the vast unknown
Though unassured I am
In the faith of my hand
I can rest in the known promise of that flame
It warms my soul
As it does all who hold
The communion of its glow
Bringing all people into one
Unified within the Holy Ghost

The ring slides gently onto her finger
Till death do we part
he promises her
A vision of beauty garbed  in white,
She stands there, with wide blue eyes.
Struggling to take in this sight
He closes his eyes.
As their lips touch
he watches her white cheeks
Start to blush
He smiles, knowing that this woman is his bride.
The beauty of holy matrimony.
The fusing of two hearts.
A covenant made to one another
To love and never part
But in the rush of it all
I guess we forgot
To cherish and care for
Instead of casting in our lots.
Men, lead your houses with love
And when troubles come
Pick up your Bible
Instead of your bag
Women, support him
And when times get tough
Start caring
Instead of quitting
You are one spirit
Not just two bound by words
And when there are problems
Look to The Lord not the world
Marriage is a mirror to Gods love for us
And gives us a glimpse into that blessed day
When Jesus will see his bride lifted up.
He bled for that day
He took all of her sins away
Just so he could love her in this magnificent way
A vision of beauty garbed in white.
His scars were for her
He took on the torment of the world for her.
He wiped away every tear
And whispered in her ear
You are so much more than all of this
More than that blade on your wrist
More than those pills clenched in your fist
More than what the world made you believe you were
You are beautiful and you are blessed
you are a princess
That is getting dressed
For her glorious wedding day.
This is how it is meant to be.
This is the standard we are meant to meet.
Love doesn't have terms and conditions
It doesn't require complete perfection.
So If they cannot love your flaws
Then they aren't capable of loving your all.
So when the day comes for you to say "I do"
Make sure it's to someone who loves you for you.
After 50 years
She stood by his bed
His eyes were full of terror
Not of what he was facing
But of facing it without her
Both of their eyes were full of tears.
After a lifetime together
His promise was fulfilled
She sobbed " wait for me"
And he answered " haven't I always"
Then with his dying breath he promised her
Till death and then forevermore.