Killing for Love

Loving you feels so cruel
its culmination requires the killing
of something soft and innocent

Guilty feelings get tangled
with the glee I want to grasp
this heart burns bittersweet

There is a sharp pain I'll have to face
in order to claim the prize I pine for
please let this promise make me brave
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Terminally Yours

Missing you is a chronic illness
an ongoing inflammation of the heart
it comes and goes in sudden flareups
then subsides back into remission

Regular checkups have become routine
monitoring my emotion for warning signs
self screening for the sharp pain of longing
trying to stay mindful when it overtakes me

Some days it feels like I'm finally better
probing into those tender places doesn't hurt at all
but then for some reason I start to ache again
and all the stiches inside my heart are unsown

An ocean of grief opens up inside me
bright, blood-red waters fill my lungs
with the violent crashing waves
of all that once was

This condition of loving you cannot be cured
I think I'll always carry it with me
I think I like the days with pain
they make me feel close to you again

Engulfed in Anger

Anger is the poison that
paralyzes my higher power
the shackles that keep me separate
swallowed up in thick flames

Burning all the bridges that
could deliver healing waters
an aching exhaustion in my chest
from hopeless, helpless hatred

The violent energy that boils my blood
bubbles up my throat to choke me
lashing out with an instant instinct
I immediately wish I could take back

All consuming, ever growing
a blazing heat that binds and blinds me
rage reducing compassion to ashes
burning up who I've hoped I would be

I can never seem to calm this fire but
let me learn to sit inside the inferno
and keep this liquid lava venom
from seeping out into everyone I love

One Year

How long can you try to force something
before you finally come to forfeit?
it's now been 363 days since my heart broke

Walking home on the first crisp day of January
wiping frost off pale cheeks with red, aching fingers
a year's beginning like a heavy stone thrown into a lake

There is a kind of certainty that feels uncommonly cruel
a conviction to cut into raw nerves
like severing a hand to save the whole

Instead I've let this wound continue to fester
faced with the same decision, only denser
the compounding interest of inner pain

A Precious Aching

Sometimes my heart strains toward you
spreading so thin across the expanse between
that it quivers like a tightly strung guitar string
sending notes of anguish into all that empty space

Reverberation of moth eaten memories
stirring up stale dust in a long abandoned room
as it echoes off the walls of aching lungs
until I'm almost sure I should reach out for you

The half formed fantom of a future
grips my heart so suddenly in some moments
that it feels worth risking anything for
even certain humiliation and rejection

But then the sharp, pinching recoil always returns
to snap me out of my pathetic, forlorn reveries
my hand is not worthy of even reaching
a frenzy of hope can overcast the wretched truth

I have no right to continue pining
a don't deserve the bittersweet comfort
of these carefully enshrined memories
let alone the audacity of asking for more

My lot now is to keep languishing
moving inevitably away from a future
that could have once been mine
but was long ago forsaken

My selfish heart keeps me from
even the respite of one day forgetting
pouring warm tears over ice cold memories
I will be grateful for this aching

The Strength of Memory

Early morning mountainside
enshrined behind a gentle mist
fog rising from cool air
as it meets the hot earth

How many other moments of awe
have already slipped beyond the veil
of impermanent, imperfect memory
sudden piercing pang of vague loss

I run my fingers over the fading pictures
I've placed in holy alters of the heart
pleasures made sweeter by the stitches
of pain weaving outward from the past

Is it wrong to endlessly revive old joys
should I put effort into slowing the
inevitable erosion of time or
would it be more kind

To allow old days to disappear
and someday no longer know
what wonders I've since lost
along the long, winding way

Will holding on make me strong enough
to face the many difficulties ahead
or will a tight grip leave me too weak
to embrace the life I've yet to live

The Beauty of Broken Things

The sweet sadness of loss
and long, lonely nights
I once viewed as damage
chips and cracks to cry over
evidence of unworthiness
that everyone would see

I've learned to understand
that old wounds are what
weaved me into who I am
a wonderful landscape with
deep valleys of despair that
can be filled up with healing water

These dark caverns of past pain
create breathtaking contrast
and allow me to ascend higher
and appreciate the peaceful peaks
speckling my span of time here
with all consuming beauty

I am so grateful for all the tears
and the twinges of discomfort
that form tight tethers to my past
even my small sufferings have been
dear friends and teachers to me
I've learned how to love my broken pieces

Fear is Futile, the Future May Never Come

The future is always uncertain
fear cannot solve anything
instead it keeps you small
trembling in your lowest frequency

A protective shield repelling
all positive energy from entering
there is no way to escape pain
avoidance only amplifies it

How many things have I agonized over
that never even came to pass?
I've aged myself tenfold expending energy
on the ugliest ideas of things that would never happen

The art of living is learning to be present
no future safety and comfort will matter
if we can't even enjoy the peace we have now
so let your mind be still, just exist

All we can do is savor the moment
everything else is only theoretical
there is no use struggling with demons
that we may never meet along our path

Build resiliency for whatever may arrive
by cultivating a garden of delicious experience
that will satiate you as the future floods in
you are alive, you are safe, just breathe

Haze of Change

Senses sharpened by a shift in reality
the surreal sensation of sudden change
unstable ground under cautious steps
keeps me tethered in the present moment

My soul lurches back and forth between
ecstatic excitement and utter terror
at the prospect of all that's to come
should I dare to let myself hope?

Surely it's psychotic to leave this safe haven
this resting place that's given me such grace
the soft embrace of a found family
have I formed ties strong enough to last?

Still, it's been so long since I've felt this stirring
this passionate flutter of energy inside my chest
for once I want to let myself follow it
to fully embrace my innocent, hopeful heart

I've finally felt the hand of fate guiding me
I can't bear to ignore the voice of opportunity
even as it beckons me beyond my boundaries
to new places tinged with fear and uncertainty

Perhaps for the first time, I feel ready to be brave
making the right choice doesn't mean it's easy
left disoriented and dazzled by unknown possibilities
it's been the hardest decision I've ever had to make

Cry

SSRIs make it hard to cry
hard to feel anything fully at all
sometimes they are necessary
to blunt the unbearable fear
a protective barrier against the world

But walls meant to defend
soon start to close in and
cut off the true healing of
experience and connection
left cold and untouched by life

It feels good to cry
to release this stagnant energy
that has been choking me
but that familiar, impassable pit
remains just behind my heart

Now tears of joy and gratitude
flow freely from my eyes
but the painful feelings
are still stuffed down and
kept from breaking the surface

They are too big and frightening
to let myself feel, to move past and heal
stifled deep inside they swell and
stitch themselves together 
become congealed with past pain

Threatening to consume me
or tear my paper heart to pieces
forever adding drops to that dark well
discovering the ways I've learned to cope
have been keeping me sick