I do not ache because I yearn
to hold the needle
as I stroll
half mind, half soul
at both ends
and to sew
and weave those threads
together
again
there is a bridge I cannot cross
I have burned it many times
on many half ends
and on half taken steps
that just stilled
and I held my breath
and if to see
the water seems void
but endless
and as you see your echo
flow through
whispers seem relentless
and to ask
do you drown
because you cannot breathe,
or do you drown
because you do not want to breathe?
-but you are not loved because it has to be earned
it has been woven into your existence
carefully pulled
string by string
meticoulously
that leave you in awe
when you contemplate
you were created to be loved
as she held her breath
tears in her eyes
not from blood or ache
but something entirely else
you meant the world
you exist to love
and the sweater you wore
warm, made out of polyester
but it was the familiar scent
that made your eyes glisten
and a throat that couldn't
swallow it down
those ashes
they burn
and yet
you'd rather burn thousand nights
and thousand years
to bear it again
you exist from love
it was breathed onto you
and called “Be”
and you became
and you became for love
from the One who created you
Who sent you down
so you could return to Him
and manifest it through
among many other things
sparkling droplets
falling down
but were warm
because the sun shined
and you became
flowers,
scent,
warmth,
home
and the cold rain upon hot sand
the sun shined
and you became
but I-
-I do not ache
not yet,
not still
as I stroll
to hold the needle
I do not ache because I yearn-
I-
I do not ache to yearn.
When a war within takes place, a conversation surges between the mind and the soul. The heart is a battlefield.
