There are poems of love I will now never finish

Singing nothings that are now nothingness.

You did this, you killed them, you stole out their flame

Now silence must pay back the debt of this pain.

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It hurts to know I

Wasn’t enough;

And the rivers I cried may as well

Have been blood;

For the hurting they brooked

Was as deep as a wound;

And my streams now have dried

to evaporate you.

there is now a song

it sings in tones of spider-thread

it wanders up and down the Pain…

The song is caught in a timeless place,

where the hurting worsened ’til it grew a face;

and the face is blank and its eyes are dead;

& wilted blossoms frame the head;

beautiful, but also gone.

just like us.

i wrote us a song.

Love conquers a multitude of sins

Once there was a boy. He was alright. He thought he knew what he wanted in life, but for some reason, everything just left him empty. Over time, things got worse. He was hurt many times by many people, even his own family.

The boy became very broken.

There was also a girl. She was alright. Death came for her a few times, but she lived. She thrived, and God placed his blessing on her. She was favored. But favor doesn’t mean everything is easy. The girl suffered a lot. She faced many trials. God never left her. And he allowed the suffering to leave its mark- as its mark was the shadow left behind by all the times she had been delivered. No suffering, no miracle.

So she was very broken too.

The boy and the girl met. They fell in love. Against many odds they built something, and it was mostly good. They treated each other well. They sacrificed for each other. They wanted to see the best and the most beautiful of each other.

The girl sought to help heal the boy, and the boy sought to help heal the girl.

But darkness from the past wasn’t done with the girl or the boy. It showed up many times, in many ways. It was a complicated and painful relationship from the beginning. They faced many trials. And they grew through many trials. And many trials were faced together that would have been near impossible alone.

And however much, their faith grew.

Time passed and the growing slowed. It even began to crumble. It was no longer a place of healing. The girl and the boy were not quite strong enough to give their best to each other. Pain and distrust and panic were destroying the goodness they’d built.

So, tears flooding freely, all other escapes exhausted, they said goodbye…

And God said this was crucial for the boy’s faith. The girl, still in agony, tried to be comforted by this. He told the girl not to fear the giants in life.

He told the girl to remember his promise- that he always finishes what he starts.

So the girl is praying and waiting and hoping. She knows it will get better, and the crippling-pain will cease, and the agonizing emptiness clawing a nest inside her will be chased away one day. She is stubbornly and insistently praising the Creator, remembering his promise:

I will finish what I started in you.

The girl knows that God isn’t done with the boy, either.

The giants will fall.

i fear {flashback}

i fear
that you will see me here
that you will take three steps back
enraged by what you find
amazed and lost at the same time
i fear
all the things that you could say
but more i fear the game we’ll play
i fear the words that i will stutter
when i’m alone i pretend and i mutter
like i’m speaking to you but when finally we meet
the shouts in my head all suddenly cease
they leave me alone with nothing to speak
i’m totally undefended before your blue eyes
with nothing but memories of the tears that i cried
you brought pain and sorrow and sickness, it’s true
but mostly i fear the thinking you’ll do.
how i wish i could know
the thoughts in your head
about me
alas
i’ll have to pretend
instead.

Mechanisms

I have not written since we parted;
Though like as not the words still started.
But quill uninked cannot create.
And ink bleeds out when broken-hearted;
So all my thoughts abate.

Now writing then, do I declare
A misery no longer there?
Or do my words in fact call up
a step of grief entrenched, revenge?
Or is it all of the above?

A silver laugh, the moon is kind
It thinks my heart is silly, too.
Rest now, it bids, and later find
A love more true than this one lost.