I find myself too often
complaining on the daily
about the broken world in which we live
where violence is easy
The other day I caught myself
in a moment of being happy
feeling lucky about
being able to trust again
I find freedom in reliance
in the mutual agreement
to cherish someone to the fullest
I found our sacred place
The string that connects us
even over distance
the ease in which it all fell into place
was honestly magnificent
Sometimes it hurts when I can't describe
how vast my love for you really is
so deep and sweet and beautifully natural
like dark chocolate and violins
I'm discovering myself
while talking to you every day
but as I start to feel brand new
stretching and fluttering my wings
I keep hitting that crash landing
These are my dreams
You are making them come true
and sometimes I still can't believe
that I am one for you too
Love is love.
Yet I love it.
After all this time it still drives me.
I don't need it, like air
I can observe it from over there
Go on with my day, like any other.
But I seek it and want it and
see fire when I fall
I've been beaten, ******, and blue
But I won't believe that it's true
That it's no big deal
That I'm making it into something it's not
is always too long too promise.
I understand the concept
of change being the only constant
not sure I can figure out
why every person insists on being involved.
Certain people are good for you
other ones are way too bad
I still believe they are there for a reason, a lesson
but do they always have to leave, once it is learned?
Either dragging my toes or standing on the very tip of them,
Down below I can observe most things happening
Anticipating but never participating
Pacing the sidelines, circling the corners, preparing to jump.
I never see the fall until after I have crawled
back out of this darkness
but I suppose that is why
they say what they say
I feel no separation from my wounds.
After they have long closed over I carry them with me.
I am aware of them as if they still hurt me.
Gently moving forward with caution.
I can tell myself they are gone, and on some level I know this.
But sometimes it can be difficult when I look down and see them.
I know I am not what happened to me.
Usually I need some kind of sound, to block everything else out.
Music is my lifeblood, I find great solace in the voice of my favorite fictional characters, I can feel my brain growing with online lectures...
My thoughts needed to find their way to the page, usually locked behind layers of fear and clutter, the past pushing everything down and fighting to get out, but I doubt I could let it get to that point again...
Not looking for this love
has become tried and true
there were lots of reasons why
I never seemed to want to try
but you obliterated that whole train of thought.
Not letting myself see before
convinced myself, I was so sure
that I had this figured out
leaving little room for doubt
you came, you saw, and oh the love you brought.
Two thousand miles was nothing to you
knowing what I needed, you little sneak
you tiptoed 'round my heart, crept behind it
and grabbed on with all you got.