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Poem
Sometimes I fear I've 
never known you 

Like a leaf might feel
It knows its mother tree
Until she sheds its crispy remains,
Only to let its pieces wither 
Into the same substance 
That gave them both life  

I wonder

Is this life?

To live,
Only to languish;
To love,
Only to lament;
To long,
Only to lose?

To render,
Only to revoke?

This is what I fear you have become

It is what my body understands
But my blood refuses to accept

My blood -
Engraved upon the palms of
Your hands -

The demands of justice
Cleansed by your grace 
That transformed me 

But not before my bandwidth snapped,
And the strands left beating 
Forgot how to feel

Who am I?

A shepherd's lamb?

Or a damned soul -
My sole purpose for servitude?

I haven't known what to believe,
Weaving in between the lines of earth and water -
A dangerous place to be,
Where crocodiles lie waiting 
For the one who lingers a little... too... long...

Snap

I've never really believed in fairytales
I used to believe in love
And I long to believe in both
 
I suppose the one thing waiting has taught me
Is that belief is a choice,
And sometimes choosing burns you,
But that doesn't necessarily mean 
You were wrong in the choosing -

Maybe fairytales were written for a reason
For reasons beyond human reasoning -

For seasons come and seasons go,
Just as the sun rises 
And the sun sets
But 
If I am set on believing
In eternal winters
And immortal nights,
Then spring will never come,
Neither the sun rise

Maybe that is how hell has come to be -
By choosing to disbelieve that which is real,
That which is truth,
That which is light,
That which is life 

That which is written
Into each chasm
Of our inner and outer shells,
That which dwells in the very cells
Of our existence-

For to deny life is to deny oneself

How could that not be hell
Itself?

So

My choice?

Truthfully,
I don't know you,
Though
I know I need to

The real you

I'm not confident in what I will find,
But I know what I must do

And all that's left
Is trust
And the choosing
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