Confessions

Where were you when I needed you? All I asked for was understanding and compassion. It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about fucking. I valued you as a woman, not body parts for selfish sexual satisfaction. I truly tried in every beautiful way to convey my emotions. Still, I apologize for my own errors. Still, my heart sends you loving whispers. With every intimate moment I reached to caress your essence. With every kiss I wanted you to know that I loved you with everything within me. So many years are spent in unhappiness in the unforgiving purgatory of pretense. So much fucking time is wasted with trivial and bullshit arguments. One thing that I can say about myself is, I always gave you room to vent. At risk of looking weak I would shed tears and tell you that I didn’t want to leave. You once were my reprieve. You were the life that I breathed. In my anxiety, sometimes I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to be the man that you needed. I wanted to bring the comfort of security, love and financial stability. I wanted a transcendent intimacy. I wanted you to evoke strong emotions of affection when you looked at me. I wanted you to be exceedingly joyous and happy. Perhaps you are happiest without me. Perhaps I am a romantic fool steeped in some ridiculous love fantasy. Perhaps I should beseech the ghost of Norma Jean and converse with her deeply about life, love and tragedy. The winters are so cold; baby, they are so cold. Fall is already here, and another desolate winter is near. I see you through my tears — baby, I swear that I still see you through my tears. 

Essence of Love (pt. 2)

Love is accommodating. Love is not rigid in its nature — its elasticity stretches to the limit and still holds everything together. Forgiveness is Love’s greatest gift. Love bestows grace and is gracefully beautiful. Love’s deepest depths may require sacrifice without acknowledgement, thankfulness or reciprocation from its receiver. Love’s essence is manifested in true believers. Love is steadfast in excellent health and more-so in illness near death. Love is not sex, but through intimate sexual expressions Love can be made manifest. Love is eternal. Sometimes, it can be viewed as senseless and irrational. By nature, Love is transcendent with many intricate layers in beautiful colors. Love may require you to stand against opposing sentiment without even an inch of relent. Love is a precious gift heaven sent. Even in the face of death, Love will provide you unfathomable strength. Love is often proclaimed with ultra sincerity in last breaths. Love is spiritual. Love is ethereal. Love touches and heals many people. In Love’s embrace one can can vulnerable. Love is gorgeous. Love is beautifully intimate. Love is sought by those who betrayed the attributes of it in their last moments. Love is a child that causes exceedingly great pain to his mother in labor but after, she cries joyous tears as he is in the embrace of his protector with whom he will share a bond forever. Love is an emotional cord braided with another that could never be severed. Love is sincere and passionate in its endeavors. Love, are the words left with me by my mother before I lost her. 

Malicious Deceit

They use the word LOVE so loosely, corrupting the meaning and tarnishing the radiance of its beauty. I despise their blasphemy, for they have never loved and will never. Their hearts are dark, manipulating emotions for power, sex and money. They are void of morality, cold, without empathy. They whisper lies that sound so sweet — their victims fall into a vicious trap of deceit. Oh, Lord, please help them see it. Heaven, before they are totally broken and the tears run, please help them see it. They prey on the vulnerable, the already victimized, and the heartbroken then intentionally hurt them again. They use the word LOVE as a potent weapon leaving lives in ruin and utter devastation. They will seek LOVE when destruction is upon them, but they will not find it. They will ask for mercy in their final hour of death, but there will be no absolution for their transgressions. In their elder years they will suffer, gaunt with the darkness that condemns them. Blindness will strike them, yet they will clearly see the faces and names of their endless victims. They will reach for the comfort of angels wings, but there will be nothing. Despair will overtake them, and for LOVE they will give every and anything, falling on their knees and praying, saying: Please love me, Please love me, Please love me, incessantly, over and over again in breathless whispering.

Promises

I will kiss you in your sleeping. I will comfort you in your weeping. I will hold you in your dreaming. I will whisper the secrets of my soul to you in my speaking. I will always love you, not for your beauty or for sentiments of duty; I love you for just being. We embark on a new beginning — a beautiful union without ending. Now, with love in our eyes, let us consecrate the vows of our hearts at our wedding before mortal witnesses and the immortal in heaven.

She is a mystery cloaked in elegance and beauty — the presence of her is womanly; be loving and patient in your discovery, and in time, you will find her, a flower that caressing winds carried over raging fires and vastly deep waters, finally setting her down delicately in a hidden place of safety that could only be found by the truly worthy who sincerely love her deeply — protecting her heart forever. 

Still, I Weep

I cry, not because of regret or the woman that left, but I shed tears for love itself, for it never had a chance to grow because the soil of its young roots became infertile — dying in its infancy, it withered slowly and painfully, and though I nurtured love as a mother cradling her newborn baby, I could not save it — so I gave love one last kiss in its place of final rest and wept over my loss for weeks until the tears could flow no more from listlessness, insensibility and lack of sleep.