The Harbor & The Vessel

  I love you baby.

I do not say it often,
  because sometimes I wonder if I will ever be who I once was.

You deserve the best of me, but I've only had half of that to give.

My heart, I had bound up, and sheltered away...
  In some far away and dark space,

where it would die the slowest death of all, however protected.

A blackness had grown in me; had spread like a mutation
  and all that I used to be,

feels stripped.


Defeat took over, and cynicism became a daily reminder of choosing the wrong pair of walking shoes.

The only thing that may truly matter, I had finally seen decaying within after so many battles fought.

  And finally...

 like a bee over-poisoned...

   I started to lose my senses.

Dazed.  Confused.  Delirious, I would spin out...

  and maybe be lucky enough to come out of it alive.


The Poison did a number on me.

 I have never since..
  been the same.

I love you...
  Because you are a sheltered bay
to a broken vessel

 During a storm's eternity....

and should you love me at all

I may never understand why.

I gave my heart away before you came... so passionately and truly

  yet you have deserved it the most,
and how unfair it must be,
 to only know, it's ghost.

How unfair.

Whatever I am now,
  or us...

I know deeply that only time will tell.

That "future" seems up to us; seems it can go any way.

Still I wonder,
  where my heart has gone?

Crawled off, like a dying cat...

I wonder, where I can find it,

  before it's too late.

The world has made me hollow-
 narrowed me out.

  Where Love used to team with fervor..
now remains a zombie's shallow.  A fear, to let God back in.

While I have been making my way back through these woods
and this darkened day
  You have taken my hand.

I'm not sure this, I will ever understand.
  Not sure what a hollow girl has left to offer...

but somehow...
  by my side you always remain, reaching out to take my hand...

often, silent and calm.

If you love me, I wonder...
  But if not, what you give me feels like everything Love should be.

How so easily can you accept what you do not know?

  and what you give is everything I have needed
   for a very long time.

What does "in love" mean anymore to someone like me?
  Someone holed out? Burned.  Nearly...dead, inside?

I think to even love you, as I do...is a miracle.
 and perhaps too...

you as well, are holding back.

  Yet...

You aim to please.  Truly.  Surely.
And as surely as any Harbor will never move,
  it will still,
always need a boat, for without,
 why then,
would it be?

Whether A Boat, or Some boat,
I take shelter in thee.

You warm me.

and I'm starting to think I can believe again.

I never knew,

That was the thing I needed
the most;   to believe.

We take hope for granted.
  or maybe,
We don't.






 


 

The Map & the Sun

I am eating my sadness,
  loose in my gut, like a tumbleweed...
empty, and hungry in need.

Distrust liquifies, down my reef, smears along my body, down my legs,
  and into the mulch

as if there were an intelligence to it.

  Empathy, heavy with heiress.
Duress, as light as a feather, pumping anxiety's breath.

Wanderer, and unbound, I walk the highway,
  Map my Route, like a textured pavement and heated tune.

Captured, in pressures of heat, The sun is a long road ahead.

 The Mind,
   is a map.

The Likelihood

                                                                                                                                  JR Korpa Photography



I went to bed loving you

the night ran in weird rewinds,

of which at some point you said, "I love you too", though it was a dream.

One of those eerie nights, with odd wakes, and unsettling arises.

awoken by a phone call, and a number I didn't want to see, like the queasy feeling of almost needing to vomit.

you cheated on her.

I don't know why that would sit with me this morning, other than that you said it last night.

perhaps, that it has been all this time, and I have been afraid to fall into the wings of your arms,
rather easier had it been to cast rocks at our wagon wheels.


Still,

when I am with you,
I might as well be flying.

Your kindness, is a grade on my life, a marker.

  a fear, for my demon always hides last minute to sabotage

anything that I love...


  a question mark.

It may be that I desire you to consume me; that you even would.

but what I fear is the consumption and death.

what I fear is walking across the lines we lay, and that there is a death awaiting you and I.

It is a risk.  A Question.  A Concern.

 -a love I fear to feel.

  Disappointment, a demon that taunts me.

What likelihood, that your affection, may be any different?

  Will one of us use and cast the other?

Rather most truly,

  if I can not be certain, I fear what I might ruin,

  for you veil and blind me.  No sight beyond confusion and tepid emotions
depressed by outlandish fear.

you are good.  wholeheartedly.  and yet something else lays in you.  Perhaps some grey or dark matter that rests in the cracks of my soul as well.

Should we consume, I fear that we will ablaze.
  and I love you.
and losing you is something I want,
less
  and less.

It has become,
  a fear now.  a seed.
One, I meant to preserve.

The water now instead
has grown life.

Has slipped out of the dark blanket of soil and earth.

What now,
Am I supposed to do?

As we might love, I hold you.

It is all I can do.

It is all I want.

and becoming the more of what I long for.

What question mark in our cards

had the reading supposed?

a Flower.  To be or not to be.  Balloon, of risk.  He loves me, he loves me not-

They had meanings.

  You however,

emerged, and I do not trust what I can not know.

no longer, yet,
soften and hypnotize me you do,
on most occasions.

You do have the control.
  I must, submit.

That is what I realize from, both mind and heart.

Lest I do anything, could I sabotage, and not fair, that you are reeling me in this far.

What can I do, but hold you?

Await our fate?

  Let you take me and guide me blindfolded?

To do anything else, is the risk uncertainty, to push it over an edge.

I love you baby.
  The edge scares me.

No Heroes for Women

I know saying so,

  That there are no true heros in men for women,
reflects the cynical backslide against hope and tradition...

But as I have subconsciously waited for a Jungian Father to return,

  My home reflected statistics knowing more of myself,
than I had yet and for so long, to understand.

Daddy came and gone,
and turning for love, to women,
Solved no issues for me,
in the seeking and creation of a home.

the same would go for love, in men.

There have been no heroes.  Only love, sometimes torrentially passionate,
and the spectrum of miracles and disappointments,
sharing a body.

That body is me,
  was me.

I

was a dreamer too.

I still am, but the dream has so little value now,
  like an illusion of something else.

Love, all but once, twice, has come through for me.
  Faith, propping me up, like a scarecrow, with no bones,
Lost and Sorry, and dying on a cross, these eyes will never see.

  more and more, excommunicating myself of the World of Man.

The Single Star in the Sky

Light me, eternally born to death,
  And wear,

As any sequence
 Of human abode.

  Head knelt-
    a grace of submission.
Visions and squares, frame his face
  O'er and o'er, but ethereal clouds
Perhaps only as thoughts
  Are all there is,

To say it was.

Had we left it squandered? Or was life fully lived?
Done the best with what we'd been given...
Had we done our best?

There is a single star outlined,
  one that always points to you.

I imagine that is the pathway home, in the beyond
  believing irrevocably, that even upon death,
I will go back one day.

That we will look into the other again,

that I will be welcomed home and embraced.

That I will have never forgotten you-
My Heart, left in another life;

Left in a realm, where you keep it safe,
Yet broken I am without it.

Heart centered, with no ground.

Lost here,
beneath this one star,
so far,
pointing the way home-

back to everything I knew,
before this.