If I can so easily see (and so deeply love)

both sides of your multifaced self, don't you think
you also can start at least try seeing  and loving
yourself as equally beautiful (simultaneously, so) parts,
who's congruent sum so beautifully make within you,
  the whole?

Look at you shoot and scoot (run back and hide)
after never even (until now) having a taste of being seen
(and yes, Babe.. loved) for who it is that you truly are
( a beautifully.. goobery, complex sum of the whole)..
growing,  as you little by little embrace the truth,
and in doing so, have the broken-into-shards ,
tainted perspective within your trauma-stricken mind
become slowly rebuilt  and renewed  

    into an accurate picture of the true you..
Even if that picture is conveyed back to you  
as I hold the mirror's reflection up to you
(a reflection that your beautifully.. at times, open heart
paints upon  innerwall linings of my heart-infused soul)  

and then you admittedly (your beautiful honesty, again)
jet back into your world of daily distractions..
    So I say to you, beautiful girl..

It is you that chose to reveal to me your true self
in a way that I could so easily grasp  within all of who I am
as I struggled to keep myself from truly falling in love
with your gorgeously-blatant honesty..
  so I ask you once again--
Why would you so beautifully choose to  paint
your true self upon the inside of a man
that you knew and believed could actually  convey
the utter and beautiful reality
of that incredible picture back to you:
   but do it in such an unholy, sneaky way
   as to be able to bypass any and all of your intricate,
   security (survival) based defense system
   in a way that the true view of you could (and can)
   actually get through?

You fear the congealed congruency  of the truth
of your own consolidated glory,
   as if you are forced to live within the resignation
   that the  true  parts within you
   cannot co-exist  equally and simultaneously
   within you at the same time,
   without the (feared) unbearable tension
   and anxiety within you

    causing your own spontaneous annihilation.

But still, young Beautiful...
You  showed  me  you,  anyways.

You did not do it because you hate you,
that we can both agree on..
But the manufactured (created) you
has a whole world of relation (its own form of 'connection')
   built around  the you  that feels safe inside
   if the presented image to that world
               remains loved and cherished
But also, good as people that they are..  they find you..
   (you,  who so well emanates a self that congeals
                                with their emanated self).

..So when you enter into a room  
that you can truly breathe (as your true self)  in--
As you prepare to exit its beautiful doors,
you almost have to (temporarily) sever all there is of you
that you have so beautifully and tangibly painted (imprinted)
upon the insides of all of who it is that I am.

You are beautiful within your entirety.
I am not intimated by it,  nor am I threatened
by the possibility of its beautifully shining glory
being 'stolen away' by another. The gift of it all to me
is that you have chosen to reveal your true self to me
   even though you very well  knew
   what it was going to cost you--
   (the stronghold within your manufactured self)
And so now,  here you are--
   shaking and trembling   within the
   unprotected tenderness of your own,  newfound Glory.

You feel it here within these four walls
like you have felt it in no other place on earth,
..So why would you want to betray yourself
by running and hiding back into your detachment?
It is horrifying to be seen and loved like this, I agree..
   But think of this...

What if what is seen and felt (Loved)
within the four walls of this private room
we are in together here,
is the true taste  and pieces of True reality,
and most all outside of this,
only continual extensions of 'the game'.
What if this right here is how life (love)
was truly meant to be experienced  and lived,

and most all other things out there..
just a well-built and contrived (machine) of distraction.

Let your own heart be your guide.  
You can sit and play my guitars
while you unfold so beautifully (as you so well do)
right in front of me. In turn..
and through day after day
of me being there for you like that,
your beautiful war-torn mind will slowly
(and then, quickly) become renewed.

It will all be about (and for) you..
and when you have had your fill,
you can punch me in the nose
for my having a hand  in plunging you
into "the horror" of it all,
   But you truly also for the rest of your life,
   will never be the same.

You are fascinating to me in all of your brilliant-minded,
gorgeousness. You are absolutely beautiful, kid.

This is what is truly real.  This.

Imprinted   in to the  fleshwall-
linings   of my very spirit
resides a photo of you--

(staring at your computer screen)
      with a genuine look  of shock  
        and disbelief..

..And before I could even yell Sam
I was receiving     by you
the most horrendous,  publicly displayed
****-kick  I  have  ever  received.

It only stayed out there for a short time
but online, a "short time"  
            ..is exactly as an eternity;

       So I pulled back  in self protection.

I had been dickin'-around  out there
in a whole 'nother poetic-realm..
playfully finding words and verse  comparing
my wildly-passionate virility

    to that of a well-honed precision,
    high powered performance engine

And two clear babes  showed up  in the comments
   and let me know
how impressed and affected they were
by what it was they were reading.

   So naturally,  me being a single man..
         I responded.
    I never knew them before, or ever saw them after.
    End of story.


                    ..Almost.


Young,  beautifu­l Wildling--
I never knew you even gave two ficks and a ****..

Until I saw that picture  of you..
staring into your computer screen
in raw,  disbelief--

      ...the wind,  fully knocked out of your sails.

So..  clearly you buried yourself
in  multiple two-fingered  snorts
of your favourite "spurned lover's"  little helper happy-juice..
and once you reached   the intended goal

     of full-blown,  *******--

You performed some of the most Machiavellian-****
I have ever seen in my life.  

           (But it fell short of its  intended goal.)


Nothing can remove you  from the love  of you
                                        that I feel in my heart.

What you thought was destroyed,
was immediately forgiven
   Solely because of that picture  of you
   that is now,  forever mine.  Solely.

   There is a dream,  beautiful girl

   ..And nothing  you can do  
                  can make it end.
                  (The restoring of you   back to you
                  is such a central part of that dream.)


    The restoring of you, young beautiful..       You.


            
            Mm.

    Shhh....   listen..

A fine mist filled the room
  the moment she began singing

Covering my presence;
concealing  all that is congenital
     in me

--and the years and years and years
of my family-laid, dysfunction..

      Of the harm, inherent  in me

Of the damage to her Beautiful-Everything
      I can do..  
     (Things are not OK
     when my war-torn D N A
     comes into play.) .....


              I open the door and walk into the room.
              Small fingers  slowly sliding off of keys
                   as her  glowing face  falls,
                   now  turns  ashen

An instant,  Ichabod-like undoing
   turning Steam, into stone..

              And  still I reach for her;
              the thin fabric  of her dress
              the only barrier  between us--

             ..keeping the oils  of our skin
              from  blending  together
              (the angel closes her eyes..
              as the Glory  that  was hers
              is now hiding   in the corner
              of the room)

I am weeping  now--
This beautiful Lovedream..
This one  perfect chance  
since the day I was born;
For my deeply-protected  spirit
to intertwine  with that
    of another..


Over the keyboards  I reach
as I press myself  to her..
there is a danger  here..

      --as much  for her
       as there is for me.
       Through the tremble,
        I am so incredibly  
        uncertain

        Yet  still I gaze  at her--
        consumed, by Spirit-crave.....


(Small hands  slowly  
reach around me..
Those beautiful orbs, for eyes
staring,   so intently--

       ..A cherub-like face   
       around me,  peering..
        
 --Those eyes now closing
 As gifted fingers  on keys
  bring forth  the most   perfect

         tune.)


             And suddenly
  a whole world,  treacherous
  becomes  immediately  safe.

I was shovelling drifted snow outside  today
and was overcome  again
by the warmth of that  beautiful,
   deep feeling.

You may never understand
the need to push through the mundane
and into the deep,  central Core
of the one you care most about.
    For you,
in your current world, that is not attainable..
but for me..  looking at you..

I know you very much have that  deeply-gorgeous,
extremely worthwhile attainability in you.

Without connecting deeply with one such as you,
I would just be sliding superficially along the surface
throughout this entire 'life' here..

Knowing there is a whole world of untapped closeness
lying just under the status-quo
of the normal 'everyday' operating level.

That is not saying we would necessarily  be ******

       at all

   It just means that there is,  sadly
   such a huge amount of giving up  of the Beautiful
   in order to continue on skating along the surface.

That is why I do what I do, and say the things I say
   late at night.
During the day, I am operating  
out there on the "everyday" level.
At night,  I am connecting into the unfathomable depths
of the most lusciously-beautiful gold mine I have ever known.
I can't do the "surface" thing with you, Young-love..
    In fact..  I won't.  

You get that in your marriage,
and pretty much everywhere else around you.
I refuse to be a part of that tremendously sad list.

You will never not be that deeply luscious gold mine..
You will never not be fully worthy of the attempt.

You want to be left alone.

  
      .. ok.

.. not to be so mad at me
for wanting you out of there,
     or with me
where I can best do you the most good.

Your Glory  was never meant
to have to hide in the shadows..
nor was it  ever  meant  

   to suffocate
   beneath the blanket of indifference.

You were meant to shine, beautiful girl--  
and you will..

Your brother wants you to
I want you to

Those who are broken..  who
most need you to..   do.

You will, beautiful girl
I promise you..  you will.
xoxo

stained glass windows in my mind,
the light shines through & it all rewinds.
once more crying tears of yesteryear,
why must you have this power?
your voice remains in the back of my mind
even after all this time:
berating,
judging,
questioning reality.
have I really been hurt at all?
could i possibly be mistaken?
but then I remember I was just a child:
innocent,
in need of love,
seeking comfort.
and where were you?
too inebriated to have a clue.

You are absolutely beautiful--
Immersed within  this magical-Unfolding
as music  mates to words
Fingers, strumming now

Now finding their perfect placement

     ..On the keyboards
     of her newfound freedom
     A beautiful spirit   now returning
     to a once-little body,   beaten

     for being her beautiful spirit's  home.
     Now with headphones  on ears
     there is a  restoration

     of years and years and years,  
          locust-eaten

...Of those years, and years, and years.
                   .      .      .

Tell me about pure Joy, churches..
the nice cars in your parkinglot,  
    aint showing

The look on her face, while untethered

     tells me everything
     You can only dream of
      ever knowing.

This is true Church--
This beautiful  Sunday-mornin' glowing
This spirit-infused flesh

A perfection of music
momentarily, flowing.

From hidden cloud
her flesh-infused  spirit
is my one chance
at pure Joy, knowing..

My love  for her,
continually-growing..

     In heart,
     tarred-n-feathered..


     In Art,  all  hers
     I  am  become

       Untethered.

She is shaking,
fingers on keyboards, trembling

A confined spirit..
               now  untethering

You are absolutely beautiful--
Immersed within  this magical-Unfolding
as music  mates to words
Fingers, strumming now

Now finding their perfect placement

     ..On the keyboards
     of her newfound freedom
     A beautiful spirit   now returning
     to a once-little body,   beaten

     for being her beautiful spirit's  home.
     Now with headphones  on ears
     there is a  restoration

     of years and years and years,  
          locust-eaten

...Of those years, and years, and years.
                   .      .      .

Tell me about pure Joy, churches..
the nice cars in your parkinglot,  
    aint showing

The look on her face, while untethered

     tells me everything
     You can only dream of 
      ever knowing.

This is true Church--
This beautiful  Sunday-mornin' glowing
This spirit-infused flesh

A perfection of music
momentarily, flowing.

From hidden cloud
her flesh-infused  spirit
is my one chance
at pure Joy, knowing..

My love  for her,
continually-growing..

     In heart,
     tarred-n-feathered..


     In Art,  all  hers
     I  am  become

       Untethered.

my sister was like a music box,
gentle and pristine
I made her rugged
her walk and her talks

I opened my skin
exposing my mind
and I fear her gears cannot be rewind

her perfect clockwork now intertwined
with coils of my past

I have failed as eldest
it should not be her burden
to carry trauma I've amassed