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I do love you in my own way. But I wish I could love you differently mirroring what you say you feel for me. I want to want you in that way. I should want you in that way for all the sacrifices you made and the vows we said before God and everyone. But
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I think the saying goes that years run togetherso it’s no surprise that so many of mine became indiscernible from the otherI have tried to take account of the journey, my journey (even though I hate that word), when I wonder how I got herecompletely unsure of just how much time I spent floating, lulled
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Do you know what it was like to love you?To watch you leave knowing less of you would come back?The first time I was so proud and so naive. I would have refused to let you go if I had known how much they would ask.And how I’d have to look on as they chipped
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We don’t fuck .. .. or make love Instead, he consumes me. Pulling me in as if I am the last of all things.. Each time devouring completely.. .. as though sliding into me is the long awaited nourishment he longed for through the barren winters that were the gaps of my presence. As if
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to be loved in exactly the way I said I neededto be listened to with the objective of understandingto be sought and kept with intensity and intentionto be lead and protected, trustful and trustworthyto be taken at will because you earned my permissionto be desired solely and ardentlymade love to and fucked by you only
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void. it was the want that was heavyand I knew they could see it, spilling over, hard to holdno levee built that I had knownthey may start down the road with meto satisfy their own predilection or clarityto fill their own vacancybut it’s me who stands alone in the defeathands turned towards the sky, arms
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Hope can be a cheat, a swindler.So very cunning, that one.She is like the places that jut out up the rock face, beckoning you to keep climbing even though not every place can hold the weight.I knew hope had her ways.Even well prepared, there is always a chance I would succumb.I am human and humans
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trade. Sometimes we trade solace for sorrowor sorrow for securitysometimes those are all the same thingswallowed whole by the idea of wanting to be wholeto be able to sayoh yes, we are a family nowon the mailed Christmas cardsand in the letters of a new nameto make believe I mended what neither of us were
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They say they don’t make men the way they used to. But there are a few among us who have the spine of the older generations. They are providers and philosophers. Well read, well seasoned. They know what it means to earn what they have. Men who have felt the edge and brought others to
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Do not ask how oceans surge or stars die or people leave who swore they wouldn’t and do not ask how you stumbled upon me at just the right moment or how here in this place I have somehow always known that you will claim what has been mine for far too long this bed
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The Blood & The Bones 