The Letting

 

There is a siphoning. 

  I am plastered to my bed, energy leaking into bedsheets; 

 Can't find the strength to peel myself away. 

Today, 

  As many days, 

Many days in his orbit. 

  It has become a black hole, 

Unbearably extraneous 

  To gravitate away from. 

  A spiritual letting, 

His drink poured all over me. 

 His tears tugging upon my own. 

His desperation, drowning me. 

 A refusal to let go...

And I can't tell if it is killing us both, 

  Or just me; 

Just the work I have done. 

Just the work I have in front of me. 

He moves to kiss me, 

  And I turn away from him. 

Begs to hold me, so I let him 

  with a walled-off soul. 

It has become unsafe to love him; 

  This I know. 

  This I know. 

But he won't let go.

If I had the heart needed, 

  A heart objective and cold

Then none of this would be. 

Instead, what I am, is what he knows. 

Loving. A push over. 

  Weak to his pain; weak to my causation of it. 

But....

  Nothing....

and I mean NOTHING...

  Is the same anymore. 

I may love him...

  But I can not stand 

    Can not sit

    Can not "Be"

In his presence 

Without it utterly 

Siphoning me. 

A letting. 

To give him what he needs, even still; 

  I have had to glaze over my soul

    Shun my heart

      Drink. 

I listen silently, ambivalently

  through his roused monologues of stories

  Stories I couldn't care less to hear...

Because I don't 

  Don't 

Have the heart to tell him

  To leave. 

I think he knows this. 

The letting. 

Corinthians 13

 

13 If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies,they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror;then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.But the greatest of these is love.

An Angel's Retire II

 

Torment of a thousand worlds 

    No elixir to mute the writhe. 

No tempering or tonics 

  Can numb what's bred inside. 

And beneath we rouse and wane 

  Melancholies in the night. 

Stirring up emotions of storms 

  With never a land in sight. 

Worn like battered bronze 

   And tattered cloaks with which we ride

It is the battle over Heaven & Earth. 

  It is the torment of a 1000 lives. 

Trench weary, and of homeless seeking

   I'm tempted to strip the clothes from my back. 

In the distance, 

  Is a light peaking 

  A promise I was given, 

  If I ever wanted to come back. 

Fingertips of Black & Blue

 

I trace the outline on my skin. 

  Tempted to tattoo it all up 

      In blue ink 

With love letters between me and you. 

  A cursive press, 

Along my flesh, 

  A journal 

Of ink and blue 

  

Baby Blue

 

Every last thing I had....

    I (willingly) gave to him. 

I gave him what was left of the charred flesh inside my chest, hopeful by the buoyant extensions of love he'd endeared 

  I free climbed the deepest abyss 

To muster up the grace and beauty 

  Befitting a mother, 

        and a Wife. 

I lent over every last ounce of patience, 

  Before I would go limp from nothing left to to lend 

 Still, 

  He would beseech me and grope my flesh. 

                     Heart a zombie. 

Eyes blurred and starring through rested tears refusing to fall. 

  It was only when I left....

That I would have to render out, 

  Any energy I might have used for myself. 

He would plea....

   and beg.  He would wrangle me, and withering so, on his knees plead with me to hold him. 

  Beg me to give, 

The little bit in me 

I had left.  Plead with me to kiss him, 

  Even when my heart went inept 

Asking me to not just carry the weight of one abandoned heart, 

  But the weight of his....darkly dying 

and holding so tight, as the light of vision slips

~Then I am your abandoned dreams realized, 

  And still stretching a mangled wing 

      to cradle you. 

I know I could handle my own broken seams. 

  I have golden threads and glue...

But it is in holding the bleeding dove 

  Of your heart, 

  That drowns me depths in the blue. 

I thought I could handle it all. 

  I thought I might have grown the stamina to...

But My God, how disparaging a fall

  and I'm not sure I have the strength for two. 

  

And out of the cold, how heads would role...

   "our friends" quickly taking their sides. 

They were always yours, yet I watch them abashedly abandon you...

  Never mind the slick tongues 

Whispered in cornered eyes. 

So then how remarkable, that I am left with you..

  after each wrong so vehemently denied. 

Yet still I have remained, 

  Stroking your back, 

While you wear, your meloncholied cries. 

I drape and I cover, 

  What I can...

Each time, a piece of me taken. 

  

It sits in gut, as a hole in my stomach

Wrenching, A chord of his forsaken. 

A karma, I bound myself to, 

  Naive then 

And gullible too, 

I thought love could conquer it all. 

Because I believed in me loving you. 

Because I had the faith of God to.

Awoken now, 

   To The Fool's errand. 

An idiot, with all eyes on me. 

Now when I cradle you, 

  and knowing it's true

When they all tell me 

   I have to leave. 

I know I am a martyr in the flesh, 

But then again, 

   He martyred me. 

Seems hardly fair, 

  Baring the weight of two....

 The broken promises of The Ring. 

Seems hardly fair, but I don't want him to drown, 

  So instead he drowns of me.