(May 2016)
My every encounter with you leaves me bruised
Needing to heal all over again
Sometimes it’s intended, sometimes it isn’t
Perhaps it’s not multiple wounds, but just the one
The one which has refused to heal
But is constantly covered up by dead skin
Every encounter with you, peeling off the dead skin
Revealing a wound so real that it is fresh
So same that it is old
My every encounter with you leaves me bigger
Wider, open-er; bigger
Every time I forgive you for a slight; real or perceived
My heart’s capacity gets bigger
Each time a vow of ‘never again’
Is broken before it is even made
Each hello at the other end of your call
Each buzz of a replied text
Is evidence of growing bigness
My every encounter with you leaves me smaller
Perhaps you are the thorn in my flesh
My own messenger of Satan
To keep me from exalting myself
Every tear shed and moment lost
The constant heaviness that is you following me around
Every confession of peace
Every confession for peace
The chanting and muttering
Of mantras unyielding
Keep me small and human
My every encounter with you leads me thirsty
In need of the One who is bigger
Lord knows He has been implored numerously
Release me oh Lord
Release me from my messenger
Take away this longing in human form
Hands of which have clutched my heart
Refusing to let go
I don’t know what it is
It is not love
Love is a choice
I have not chosen you
I do not know what it is
But I would very much like to be rid of it
Of you and your bruising ability
Very deep
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Hmmm… so much to say…
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