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Isabella Nov 7
Words still unspoken
Hearts remain broken
Ever since the moment
I was not chosen
daffodil Aug 19
A crack in my mirror, right in the centre
splits my image into a thousand pieces
versions of myself never quite realised
all that I am and all that I could be
each fragment a glimpse into a path not chosen
fingers reaching out to touch the glass
dipping into the reflection, a pool of possibility
if only I could crawl through the looking glass
or break on through to the other side
would I miss this place
am I happier there
Ylzm Jul 4
Lust's outcome, unwanted, abandoned at birth.
Mothered by strangers, some naturally motherly,
some perversely wicked; fathers, a terrifying notion.
Fearing constantly: of the next face, the next stranger,
the next meal, the next bath, of dark and dawn.
Thrown about, moved around, from hand to hand;
Recovering from bruises to bruises, from slaps to whips.

But for being chosen from before the beginning,
and a name etched permanently in the Book of Life,
was found, saved, raised and guarded by Love.
The trauma of becoming left no resentful damage
but nurtured an instinctive sensitive soul, most acutely aware
of the deceitfulness, perversity and utter wickedness of man
and a constant wonderment of the miracle of Love.
Em Glass Jun 24
Eleven years ago I am a vulture
picking at a rabbit on the side of the road.
I am just doing what I must to stay alive,
and the casual observer passes by
to observe, rapt, disgusted but unable
to look away. Then a wind blows and I
am Victor in the motel hallway, knees
enclosed in my elbows, head tipped back
against the wall and eyes on the ceiling
in dismay. Then the train hits the tracks
and I am cracked and reassembled
in the present day, carrying all these
ways that we’ve been gay. Feeling our
burns of each degree, how we are
learning family.
day 99
I chose to be in love
Even if I'm not brave
I chose to stay
Even if you'll just go away

I chose to fight
Even if it's not right
I chose to be blind
Even if I can find

I chose you
Because I wanted you
And I loved you

Ylzm Apr 27
Nicolaitans, enigmatic, but
     Balaam we think we’re certain.
Truly they’re both mysteries,
     wisely and deliberately hidden.
Flesh and blood cannot reveal
     but only the Father in heaven.
Jesus, the only teacher, explains,
     as always, privately to his chosen.
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