You want me to take off my clothes
The clothes of my soul
You want me to turn around slowly
Standing bare in front of you
So you can get a good look at everything
You want me to show you everything
But I know what you'll really see
You'll see my
Scars
Bruises
Darkness
Things I've long locked away
Letting few if any see
But I have one question
When I am laid bare
Will you run away?
Will you see how many
Scars
I have and worry they'll cloud my view?
Will you see my
Bruises
And wonder if I'll give you any?
Will you see my
Darkness
And worry that it will spread?
Or would you look past all that
Search for my perfections
They are there
Just few and far between
And if you see my imperfections
(Which I know you will)
And my perfections
What will you decide?
Will you stay?
Or run?
As so many have

..It brings containment.

When young.. the world was dangerous,
at least the world within my home was.
In order to dilute the moments of perpetration,
I developed the ability to bring my little spirit
into the acknowledgment of atoms,
molecules and particles, within the universe
whose  very entrance into the room..

    could make miniscule,
   that which was behemoth.

In doing so, I was brought into the  awareness
of just how beautiful the Universe really is..
and also the intense depth of beauty that exists
in Realms that are just barely outside
of our awareness.

Within those Realms
and between those Realms,
are spirits that float..  
hovering between this place
and the beauty of that Next one.
Through touching those deeper parts of the Realms,
those spirits are ignited.. .

and through that beautiful ignition,
   are brought into full flame.

It is there within you, my beautiful friend;
that your Otherworldly words are given birth..
bringing within them, the depth of Love and Healing
  to those of us down here that need it most..

..A beautiful love that yes.. exists within the Realms..
But in it's very essence, flows directly from the Core Heart
of the Universe, which is always the place of Love's origin..
having come from that amazing Heart's deep Ache for us.

That beautiful Ache for us all, deeply touches you..
as you hover in and out of its Realms..
and then deeply touches us..
who have learned to draw on its power and beauty
for even our own very existence.
I am one of those who have had to learn
to draw from those things
just so that my spirit could even breathe..
And in an instant , upon reading,
I realized that you were one of those that go
from this place, up and over to the Next.
What you bring back down to this place,
Ignites every single part of who it is that I am.

You, writing from the feminine form..
mixed with the feminine of the masculine..  
deeply stirs the aching masculine within me.
There is a hunger almost sated,

as it leads into realms of a deeper hunger
and touches a rarely touched, deeper ache.

Warm tingling, leads to almost a tremble..
The deeply-touched heart cannot help but to  pulse
warmly
and fully,
into all of who it is that I am..

Sensations that lead to the need for deep release..
the thick, gathering of that ache
     in gratitude-filled response,

the deepest of penetrations  
into the gorgeously-receiving openness    
of such a beautiful, Life-bringing spirit.

There is a giving and receiving,
that is both Giving.. and Receiving
  in its own beautiful nature.

I hope I have not said too much.
   I am so glad to have you near.

I wonder why you write,
What makes your words so bright,
What makes you write this way,
I wonder what you'll say,

It widens up my eyes,
It makes me see the skies,
It helps me see through lies,
Ways people do disguise,

Still, I am surpised how I feel,
Why is every line I read, so real,
The way your work just pulls me in,
I feel at ease through thick and thin,

It makes me cry, it makes me grin,
Tend to think about my every sin,
I look forward to see your work,
To find about my hidden perk,

So please keep on writing more,
Show your offer, what's in store,
Keep on writing one more day,
Please, just help me find my way.

It could have been different.
Don't you think?

If we never lived.
The lives we did.

If fate didn't have other plans.
If death didn't take a vacation.
If one thing changed our direction.

We could be indescribable.
We could be unrecognizable.

Trapped in another time.
Destined to never meet.

It could have been different.
Somehow we could have changed.

Never be who we were meant to.
Doomed to forever stay the same.

Fate is funny like that.
Still we wonder.

Only in another life.
Things would be better.

I always loved a good mystery.
I just never realized how much I was one.
Do they even know who’s at home right now?
Do they know why that's a problem?
I always loved Sherlock Holmes.
But not even he could figure me out.

Are you a talker?
Or a listener.
I’ve always been both.
But I don't talk much at home.
I don’t talk much about it.
But I always sit there.
And listen.
While everybody serves their secrets.
Pouring them.
Spooning them
on to a platter.
I listen.
I might be breaking inside.
On my fourth sleepless night.
But that doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter?

I don’t know how to talk anymore.
About things that make me seen.
It comforts people.
To think they know me.
When really.
They don’t know anything.
I’m just a stranger.
Who collects their pain.
You talk to me and I lift that weight.
Tell me.
Do you feel lighter when you walk away?
Yeah.
Told you so.

So here I am.
Because I have nobody to turn to.
At the end of the day.
Except for you.
Who I love far more than friendships allow.
But not quite as a lover.
Who sees me as more than just a helpful tool.
Who understands that I too,
Suffer.
You just get it.
I just get you.
I don’t know..
But maybe you feel it too.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
This is love.

Considering hostility
    I feel violent.
Considering wonder
    I am awed.

I heard a French widow
say that there is
someone in each of us
    who loves
and someone in each of us
    who kills.