Love sickness

What starts as a flutter between my skin and ribs,

Beating to the rhythm of my fixation,

Concludes with an aggravating assault on the heart.

A gnawing of sorts, upon the inner lining of my gut-

Like a mountain has lodged itself in the crick of my throat.

So much so, that words can’t be spoken

But read in tiny tender lines of fervent poetry.

Love sickness is by far and away the most arduous contagion.

Infecting the entirety of my intelligence

Until I am left emptied.

Hollowed of sanity

Of rational

Of lucidity.

In spite, the sentiment of infatuation

Satiates the nourishment of sensitivity-

The catalyst to this pestilence…

That which I would never exterminate.

For regardless of the suffering,

Falling in love has never harmed a soul.

I am Baptized

Inadequacy pools in miniature puddles

Slowly carving out cavities in every cell of self-assurance.

Before long, an ocean has collected

And dissolved completely.

With tide polished bareness,

I suppose I can begin anew.

For what is baptism?

But a collapse in standing and

A culmination of cleansing…  

Musings

Muse, you move me

With an inundation of words

Flowing out from within me.

I suppose,

As the saying goes

 “It never rains, yet it pours.”

I’d thank you for

Your inadvertent inspirations

Though it means I’m now dejected

As words, when written

Signify

My sorrowful admissions.

One Word

Is it possible you wound me even in a single word?

The power you have over me is really quite absurd.

And frankly I can see this unrequited love affair

Brings nothing short of one-sided, of which you’re unaware-

I am sure of it, despite incessant captivation.

And so the story goes with hidden transmissions

In verse and rhyme

I hide behind

My childish infatuation.

all will be right

I once wrote a letter entitled “Goodbye, because I love you.” And I had every intention of it being my last. Yet I was saved many times over by loved ones, and mentors, by rainbows, and crayons, even once by a stranger with a flashlight and happenstance.

The bravery lies not in my courage to stand, but in those that have fought to sustain me. They too have faced rejection and judgment from those that have wounded.

But when God stands before them they shall see in my lesions their hatred and error and know that intolerance is that which they’ll reap.

I know God loves me. I know he loves you.
Most importantly I know he loves those that have hatred for me.

In the end,  all will be right.

http://mormonstories.org/?p=2179

Usher In

The warmth of summer holds fast for at least another day. I marvel at all the change the weather ushers in …and perhaps how loved ones and memories flow through me like the course of seasons.

I long for tender recollections and the unbending relief that words carry. Perchance I will find inspiration in the future grey impending. Until then I am nevertheless contented with the vanishing glow of warmth upon my skin;

Vaguely inviting and persistent

Reminiscent of acquaintances long since preceding.