"What do we do about this?"
You ask with our hands intertwined
I breathe in my fear
Breathe it out calmly
I don't have any answers
I only know how I feel
And if they ask me if I love you
I might just say yes

Everyone wants to be accepted
But no one wants to be loved.
Accepting every attribute about a person
and not discerning right from wrong,
Cannot be loving.
"Oh I'm accepted, I must be loved"
But that kind of acceptance is out of fear of not being accepted in return.
To allow a person to self destruct either acutely or chronically
cannot be considered an act of love.
Love can be a constructive criticism
or a soft spoken word.
But if someone really loves,
they will not hinder the truth even if it hurts.
everyone wants to be accepted,
no one wants to be loved,
Because the world has redefined the true meaning of love.

Walk with your head held high
Watch your feet
And you'll be fine

consider me the luckiest man alive

waking up to you & that face

bringing joy to my world

still finding it hard to believe

you're here living life along with me

& I were to lose you

I'd lose the greatest part of me

My dad takes me to the hospital on his bike.
It’s icy and he wears his sheepskin gauntlets
and I’m grateful to shelter behind him

secure in his familiar gruff intolerance.
This is not the first time he’s taken TOIL for me
and his frustration radiates through his layers

but this two-of-us space is still delicious,
still precious for its rare warmth.
And he parks, and we dismount like John Wayne,

and the wall of his leather back takes the lead
as I stride into outpatients in his impatient wake,
making demands for his boy from the nervous staff

and taking relief from the update on my progress
and for the scar that gives me some hope of distinctiveness
and a source of stories for years to come.

Stories with my dad.