Perhaps it’s my turn to pray..

That one day there would be no Goodbyes.

That the sound of closing doors won’t leave lingering emptiness through the nights..

I blow out the candles and the flame in my heart. I welcome the darkness like an old friend yet hope that one day the fire won’t have to go out..

You walk in and the hour glass turns in my heart. The rage settles over my bones.. for the ticking hands of the clock and each second that takes you away, for the water waiting to wash away the smell of my skin from yours..

I squeeze your hands tighter and you slip through my fingers like sand. Your ‘I have to go’ rings in my ears like an air raid siren. I cover my eyes with trembling hands and shrink.. I dare not look again because I know you’ll be gone.

So I welcome the darkness again and pull the pieces of me back together. I lift up my chin like a big girl and walk, one foot in front of the other like my mother said, yet knowing that every step leads me back to you.

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The Cabin

The heat and the blazing fire; the sound of wood burning, of synced heartbeats and slow breaths. It’s late, or too early.. but they don’t know; their love keeps no track of time, no fear of limits or ends.

He begins to pray and her brush freezes on the canvas; she closes her eyes, his silent prayer alive in her ears. The whole world grows still for a while.. then their eyes meet again and smile at each other, a thousand words hidden in a warm gaze.

Now God is with them; on their burning skin and their heavy eyelids, on their lips and the ends of their fingers. They draw close, quietly drifting towards each other like lost stars until they melt together irrevocably, their eternety promised once more..

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I carry the soft drops of sorrow on the end of my fingers. And in my palms the deep pools of love, eternal and unscathed. ..Under the soft touch of his hands I become a vessel, for the sun to settle beneath my fragile ribs and melt the ancient ice in my soul.

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I place this wounded heart on your altar. An offering.

Watch it beat wildly like it always has, this unafraid warrior..

Take it, it’s yours; and do with it as you please…

I pull this noose over my head gladly.. because this one moment, with your sweet voice in my ear and my skin just goose-bumps and heat.. with my heart wild and burning, and my breath unsteady.. this one moment is the heaven I live for. There’s no eternal salvation for me at the end yet I know that I’ll never feel closer to God than when our fingers lock together and our heartbeats sync.

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When I’m say I’m getting old, don’t look at the fine lines under my eyes or the grey hairs growing at my temples. That old I can take because it means I’m alive. If you look inside and my soul is hollow, it is shadow and smoke and I can’t find a girl who was ever young.. When I stare at a broken reflection in a perfect mirror and the smile trying to fool me looks so fucking real, that I can’t even count the layers of bullshit I stacked over it all these years.

And I’m no longer scared of pain. Lately it seems pain is scared of me and it’s hiding. I am searching for it like an old friend to fill this emptiness, to give me an old, cold, comforting thing to feel when numbness buries me alive…

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And though the head
held high had faced
a thousand winters, and
the steady hand had waved
a thousand swords,
you dared to fight for
what they all worked hard
to destroy.

And your head dropped;
and your hand trembled.

You stood against monsters
who never stopped
rising from the ground;
And you never fell.

But when he traced your veins
with his fingers,
You wept.
For warmth had never touched you before.

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I can’t write because I can’t feel. My wildness crushes against the wall that he built and I choke on the words. I can’t write because I can’t see. His fears wrap around my eyes, a thick blidfold; and I wear his smile on my soul like a pair of glasses. I’d be blind if I let it go.

The air grows thick in my lungs when I hear the lock turn behind me. I swallow the sweet lump in my throat as a faint shiver slips down the back of my neck. His first step fills the room with blasting fireworks and I watch him with the corner of my eye, faking composure.

I can’t stop my head from turning to welcome his tender eyes to the place they’ve already carved in my soul. My heart settles into an unknown rhythm, perhaps his own. Perhaps God was playing a wicked game when he made us forbidden, and our hearts beat in sync..

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I’m watching his quivering fingers, fast thumbs tapping on the screen.. the soft lines that deepen on his forehead as he frowns, barely, then lifts his eyes to meet mine and they sparkle! A million stars crowded in a soft gaze. He blinks and wipes them away.

I imagine my face glows too, as I feel my heart bloom like a flood of peonies when his lips slowly curl into the faintest smile. Our eyes light the fire and, for a brief moment, it warms the blood in us both.

I look away, count my breaths to calm the storm that rose inside me and let the dark cold settle back on my bones. This flame is forbidden; my eyes close.

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Held breath

He prays for me.

And I dream of resting my head on his chest.. trembling fingers burried in my hair, growing still.

Of silencing fearful words with a kiss, softly; a held breath, the shadow of a smile touching his lips.

He prays for me..

And I wonder how the skin smells on the back of his neck. And would a shiver travel down his spine if my lips touched it. Would his eyes close? A held breath..

He prays for me..

To a God that denies us this embrace; that makes him estinguish this blazing fire and leaves the taste of hot ash on my tongue. My nails dig into my palms, my teeth bite hard into my lips and I let go.. a held breath.

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