it is a curse in life
to have a feeling heart;
a heart that feels and carries pain
it is a curse in life to have this feeling heart
whether beautiful or not
it's a curse in life to have a feeling heart.

with beauty comes jealousy
and hatred and betrayal
with ugliness comes taunts
and names and rudeness...
that could only come from hell.

it is a curse to have a feeling heart
what good is it? what good?
to connect with other feeling hearts
to do all we could

what is the issue?
why are there so many walls between people?
what has happened so that they cannot see a kind face?
or feel a genuine touch?
or hear what really has been said?
or taste the sweetness of a kiss?
or smell the aroma of love?

i can't perceive it.
i can understand it.
i just can't perceive it.

it's not fair.
i don't know what i did.
i've always given love to you,
even if the kind of love it is
has changed.
so why the foul treatment?

God, You are my Dwelling Place.

My Rock and my Wings in times of trouble.

You are the Hand that lifts me up when I stumble.

I thank You for Your love and kindness.

I thank You for listening to my voice, my prayers, my cries, and my supplications.

Continue to renew my mind and spirit to conform to your thinking moment by moment.

Every day is a new start.

When my soul is overflowing with anguish, so much so my bones are crushed,

I will look to You to drain it from me.

I will look to You to set my soul free from such an outpouring of grief and fear.

May Your love sustain me; may Your love guide me.

I need Your help, Father.

Thank You for Your unmatched, unfailing, and rescuing love.

One Love,

two love.

three love. fourth?

an overflow of love, do i really need more?

a grateful dullness fills my mind.

my three loves are fine; for now so am i.

I could’ve sworn I thought I was something…

until you cut me down to a smaller size,

stuffed me in your pocket,

said we’d go for a ride.

it took me by surprise how much smaller i was getting,

as i melted in your pocket and you kept traveling, slowly forgetting.

i laid there in a puddle, absorbing in the fabric.

i don’t think you ever looked inside, never checked what happened.

now i’m stuck between the grooves of whatever this pocket is made of. slightly made it to your skin, as the whole of me did break up. i watch you as you slide me off and throw me in the wash. good thing i made it to your skin in small parts.

as i seep down the layers of your flesh and make it to your blood, i rapidly move throughout your body as your bloodstream would.

and before i make it to your heart, i scream, “is that where i must go?” i hit and as it reverberates i hear your voice go, “oh!”

I did my crying. Now it’s time to be mature.

I am not yours.

You are not my own.

What price have I paid?

What gives me the right to complain?

I will keep my distance, I won’t put up a fight,

For someone who doesn’t want me;

What isn’t mine.

I will pray for the best,

For you and for me.

Keep her heart safe,

My sister in Christ,

Whoever she is.

Your bride to be.