Monday, May 23, 2011

some poeticness or wanton writing

i feel the need to open up myself and create a space for you. i want to wrap your broken black winged heart in my love and shower you with care. to touch your scars, listen intently to each story they reveal and then kiss their hardness away. for so long you have wandered the lone gun slinger roaming a desert filled with think that forever is an impossibility for you and yet in spite of all the battles warred, won and lost, you sir still in the deepest hole of your heart believe in the reality of fairytales. you are more honest about even that than i. as much as i want so badly to be the fairytale princess, i have to wonder if i believe in them at all. how can i offer what i don't believe in to you or anyone else? but i do so badly want to offer you that gift whatever possible gift i can give to you. i watch as you spill your heart for the care and betterment of others and wonder if you are ever given the same in return? in my secret heart i hope that my childish scribblings are something that can at least touch your sweet and tender heart. more than anything i want to give you light and lightness, maybe some day...

is it really a person i want to heal or is it me? i get so far down the path of health and then i find a massive wall. out flies all the dark and wanton voices of evil yelling their tapes of hate, created years ago.  even though i know their words are lies and smoke screen misdirections, the arrows and blades still have invisible teeth. i would rather be branded with an end in sight than sit in this massive space of unknown. my deepest heart is the desire to be marked for be sealed for ever with the heart-strings of another. but that is not my path it would be to easy not requiring the growth that i need, so instead i wait until the fateful meeting with love for my branding marks to here and how i am called to risk and wait. i am called to search and seek high and low. isn't it funny how the thing that you most desire often is the thing that you most run from? ever since i can remember i have looked to see who's i am. i have spent much of my life prematurely offering my tender heart to those who it was never meant for. now i find myself becoming more of myself and yet still screaming and wailing for the other the platonic view of people; we are separated from our other half and search the world to find it.  i have the fool hardy memory of a fish thinking each time around the bowl that it will look different and encounter another. but alas it seems to be the same damn fish bowl. nothing changes even as i change and grow! hope calls me with her tender whisper saying it's're coming to the place of vibrancy, where your chosen one will shine.

 my heart is filled with curiosities about your history and many words and inquisitors roll around my tongue. but i must admit i want to not only heal but to become a muse to your creative spirit. to be the cause of the instigation of your entrance into your call again. but more that i want to inspire beauty that is hidden in you the gentleness beyond the verbose and outrageous. already you and the packs art and presence have caught my wanton spirit driving her back to the studio...for birthing creative acts is what breaths ruach and life. and being the earth-mother that i am, i want to spill that creative breath onto you to grow creative life in you.

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