Crown of thorns

I wear your prejudice and scorn
like an ancient crown of thorns.
And though I bleed and suffer,
it remains my solemn prayer;
this life's blood be transformed,
and your garden, parched and fallow,
may drink deep and bear new life.

To touch you

It's not sympathy I seek
as I bare my soul
on these oft dark pages.

I desire and crave
to touch you;
or any part of you
that might be stirred,
disturbed,
repulsed,
exalted,
or caused to risk
a second look within yourself.

I have no other mission
but to share these impressions;
before they dissipate
into the drifting wispy mists
from whence they came.

Fortress walls

My dreams are made of
blocks of cold hard stone;
when compiled together
comprise a stalwart fortress
to ensure I dwell alone.

Eternal wound

Cupid's arrow flew
and struck it's mark.
And pierced this heart
with an eternal wound.

I love you in all the ways
that poets sing and die for.

But;

I dare not touch you

No;

I must not touch you

No;

I cannot risk to stain your soul
with the blood of all the pain
this ravaged heart has cried.

I love you in all the ways
that poets sing and die for.

But;

I will never touch you.

Only thus my love for you
remains pure and true.

The monster

There's a monster in my house.
He doesn't live under the bed,
nor in the closet.

He's real !

He's downstairs right now.
I can hear him.
He's mad at the dog,
he won't stop beating him.

I know he will come for me;
I just don't know when.
Maybe tonight he'll be satisfied
with just hurting the dog.

Maybe not !

There's a monster in my house.

He's real !

He's my dad !

bad chemistry !

good intentions
plus
an overwhelming compulsion to share them
minus
patience and discretion
equals
bad chemistry !

"We"

How is it that you never ask
if I prefer to be included in
your current version of "we" ?

If you were to stop to ask,
it's clear what I would say.
How can you be the expert,
when even I don't know me ?

I cannot ever speak as though
I know what makes you tick.
It baffles me to see you think
you have mastered this trick.

I am afraid

I may think I'm not afraid,
and might believe this for a while.

Until again I see you there.
Until again I feel you there.
Until again I fear you there.

You are my own blood's brother,
that has slain me
since before the dawn of time.

Though I know with every sinew
of this mortal flesh and bone,
that our destiny is sealed
til we become as one.

I am afraid.

It's true I cannot hide from you.
I cannot run, nor can I conquer you

Only ever this must occur;
I must die again.
You must wield the sword.

You are my own blood's brother.
Your fate's entwined with mine.

I must die and you must slay me,
til for each the truth is known.
We must become as one

Yet....

I am afraid.

Only ever me

it's not the might with which you forge your way,
nor the means by which you hold your ground,
that serves to keep your from the gate.

None of that.

But the lasting pain you wreak,
the crippling legacy in your wake
can be summed up in one word

Fear !

though I may speak of you
and you and you and you,
Of course, it's me I see
reflected by your perfect looking glass.

It's not you I fear

It's only ever me.

I believe you

I finally turned to you for comfort
as I feared I'd lost my soul

Many things had to fall in place
for me to choose to call.

You once proclaimed an oath
one I believed you would honor

It took so much for me to swallow
what remained of pride or prejudice.

I needed you
I trusted you
I believed that you'd would honor
that sacred promise made back then.

But....

When I found myself defeated,
lost and broken at your door;
though I knocked long and hard
there would be no answer.

I could hear you shuffling there.
I could smell you cowering there.
I could hear your silent scream in there
for me to go and stay away.

Yet....

Here we find ourselves again,
humbly bowing at the feet
of our holy blessed Father.
and when I see you at the altar
and we embrace in our communion
and I hear your solemn oath declared
as I'd heard it many times before:

I believe you.

I believe that you will be there
when the night is at it's darkest,
and the solitary silence shrieks.

I believe you.

And I will turn to you again
because you vowed to be of service,
though you keep your doorway barred
another thousand times or more.

I believe you.

to what end ?

you've made all the right executive decisions
layer upon layer of cleverly crafted safety nets
designed to cover every conceivable possibility

to what end ?

the jumping off point from known to unknown
leads only ever into the infinite mysterious void
no amount of careful contrivance can alter this truth

to what end....indeed ?