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Ric 5d
I didn’t just love her
I chose her
In the quiet
In moments
no one else saw

I gave her steady hands
and a heart that never flinched
I loved her when it was easy
I loved her more when it wasn’t

I memorised her fears
softened my voice to hold them
I learned her silence
waited in the dark
without needing light

My love didn’t ask to be returned
It asked to be real
So I gave it
even when I was tired
even when it cracked me open
When all is said, the site no longer matters; it makes little difference whether i'm burned in the heating sun, caught in a heavy rain, or sailed across a navy ocean. They are to weave in one crease somewhere inside me. Nevertheless, from another dimension, the site means something hard, engraved, irreplaceable. These days in home I found myself disheartened, nonplussed, and suffocated. Out in the city I navigated through the giddy horde, antisocial. There’s no subversive changes but nuance shifts that eventually leave the sentiments in deluge. I felt like a caged elf. I questioned my staunch nature.

“I miss the day when the glass is always half full”, when I was exuberant always, at least in front of you, my heaviest confidant. It’s feeling colder inside than outside; I know, relieved that I didn’t initially, all is irrevocable. Those detritus of enchantment repaints the vibe of mine. I owed it all, to the ones that imprinted me. What’s wrong with my mawkish side? Why is eccentricity to be censured? Who else sway one stronger than the self does? One can't ask the sea to never swell in rage. In that you've forsaken your role as my defender, i build my enclosure higher, thicker, colder than the backyard fence, so there's no errands, no means of lapse, of censure. You know everything yet about life——the one I devoted to live. Terrified to admit, I hesitated when asked whom I am referring to.

Half explicit thrill, half insidious vehement. Full fugitive conviction. My second journey towards America. What happened last summer in Texas flew by on some occasion. That’s the center of incidence, not mentioning millions clips of the periphery, the subjective. which stifled my intimidated solider in an unexpected battlefield.  “Tell me where the time goes, it’s like I’ve had my eyes closed.” Some memories are encapsulated. The world seems to remember more I wish to.

As those ego pitfall, the outside order of time becomes my last propel. I never settle, sometimes tarry. I rearranged the handy necessities in the backpack, inspecting within, behind, beyond. The ruffles hinged imply a constant shuffle between packing and unpacking. “Beneath the flying cloud the home assumed forgotten.” Adrift, astray, bewildered, apathetic, unsettled. I'm related to these related words. The plane of the rite of passage takes off, me the only passenger.
19:45 July 20, 2025. In the clouds above the Pacific Ocean. Flying from BJ to NYC.
BloodOfSaints May 31
I want you holy in your ruin,
with the cracks still open,
so I can crawl inside and live there.

Come back crowned in all the pain you’ve earned.
I will not flinch.
I will anoint your scars with my tongue,
light candles in the hollow of your ribs,
and worship whatever’s left of you.

I am not waiting like the patient do.
I am waiting like prophecy,
like flood,
like plague.
I do not wait to love you.
I wait to devour you,
softly,
completely,
as if you were the last god left,
and I the last believer still on my knees.
BloodOfSaints May 28
I would rather die in the ruins
of this obsession
than live without it.
Ken Pepiton May 20
an exceptionalist insisted on praying for my recent heresies -
-- answer or devote a moment of silence... my mortal flaw
--- ask not if you wish you never need account for knowing

Done lightly, is it ever done right, or must
devotees be cognizant to the right use
of dedicated hearts and minds,
by kings and courts many holier than most of us.

We can easily agree, no heavy hueristical premises,
what a participent in a war party accepts as duty
to God and Country, locally, those convinced,
converts given reason to die, where none was.

Duty in a warring society is to that social order's under lay.
Say, who first told the local version of labor class duty
to rear children fit for battle at the nation's call…
or, at the authorized voice of truth's spirit's call…

Give us more John Waynes and Ronald Reagans
-but we settle for Donald Trump and cheer,
signs are clear, God is still on our side
of the Gulf of Mexico…

devote(v.)
1580s, "appropriate by or as if by vow,"
from Latin devotus, past participle
of devovere
"dedicate by a vow, sacrifice oneself, promise solemnly,"
from de "down, away"
+ vovere "to vow"  ---{bend, bow, raise the right hand}
--- remain so devoted, in most faithful silence ---
----- banking on inside sacred signals ---

From c. 1600 as
"apply zealously or exclusively."
{For fear sake, we may imagine}

Auto d'fe, show of devotion- aithunk,

From 1640s as
"to doom, consign to some harm or evil,"
and the word commonly
had a negative sense in 18c.:
The second and third meanings
in Johnson's Dictionary (1755) are
"to addict, to give up to ill" and
"to curse, to execrate; to doom to destruction."

Related: Devoted; devoting.
To devote indicates the inward act, state, or feeling;
to dedicate is
to set apart
by a promise, and indicates primarily an external act;
to consecrate is
to make sacred, and refers
to an  act affecting the use or relations
of the thing consecrated .... [Century Dictionary]

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=devote>

It need never stop. Participation in the answers, devoted
to thinking words redeemed
at the most first recognized cognation,
- we say that this way, a vow is spiritual by nature true.
- we agree we think so, sorta,
- we swear on air, as Donald Trump did left arm dangling…

What a Hoo-mon does is speak make believe done.

We can lie to whomever believes and, doing so, prosper
eh,
furrowed brow, go soft then,
smooth, feel face smooth, cognosis fresh,
fed and walked
until relieved, smile, feel the belly join, breathe, feel heart
full wills worths worked up
into  feeling slick
in some frictionless first intent

Participle past tense, first fret faith musters, why lie about
the very basic first premis being no doubt whatsoever, a lie?

Thus devoting the gadflies this particular damnation.
Testing reader response, while acting as first reader... as a habit... self aware certain as Socrates, I may not know the least bit of all the whys involved.
Cynthia Apr 10
I wish to love you religiously.
To find my religion in the cracks of your lips.
Feel your holiness through your callused palm.

I’d worship the temple of your soul.
Nurturing and loving,
a spiritual healing
restricted to the sanctity of your love.

Salvation meant existing by your side,
fulfillment was being your shadow.
Purity meant being solely yours.

And if hell meant eternity with you,
then I’d burn the rest of my life with the fire you started within me.

If it was a sin to love,
then I have become the most immoral person in your name.

I continue loving you religiously,
submitted…
entirely,
wholly
to you.
Lukas Buijs Mar 10
Ecstatic memories have gone blue
Clouded fragments pierce through
what is left of our love

is it gone...?

one look into her eyes
blinds me to the lies
even if i never had a say
could you stop my clouds from turning grey?

tell me is this really true
for i have found my heart again
i know you're acting, yet i care
for any love that is left.

tell me is this really you
for thunder spread out again
it flooded my brain until it drained
any love that was left
inspired by "I'd Rather Pretend" by Bryant Barnes
Jeremy Betts Mar 2024
If you gotta pick one over the other
Go with the other
Because if it was the one
There wouldn't be another

©2024
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2020
I think you look but fail to see
What's right in front of your eyes
The problems steadily harassing me
You don't seem to recognize

If it was up to you we'd live
Like this forever I suppose
Mistake after mistake I forgive
Staying through highs and lows

But you keep saying things will change
I'm a fool so I believe
Stupid how I find lies strange
After all this time why am I still naive?

Looking down on my lack of will
When I can't follow through on my word
Your promises you don't try to fufill
The hypocrisy is absurd

I wish I knew how you felt about me
Wish I could read your mind
When I ask you simply ignore my plea
So your feelings remain undefined

You say you love me just as much
As you did when this began
But something feels different in your touch
I honestly don't understand

My attraction for you increases every day
No
Every second that passes by
More and more you are pulling away
While I'm left here asking why

I work so hard to fix this mess
So both our wounds can heal
Going in circles
Make no progress
Like a hamster running a wheel

But I'll never give up hope
I'll remain devoted and strong
Even if we reach the end of our rope
I'll continue holding on
Because when you love something you fight for it no matter how hard it gets
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