An artists rendition

Hold up a mirror to face my flaws
Saw you watching me
Quietly in the background
Mirrors show us things we cannot ourselves see
And how can such an image be trusted
It reflects but does it reflect true or
Is our brain trying to fill the edge of space with maybes
I saw you there
Crying in the mirror
No sound
And I turn and you are dust
Each morning
Getting ready
Fogging the mirror with steam
so that I can not see
Until I look and see
That I have become whole
And what I’m missing is you
This is what healing is
Another way of losing you a third time

Embrace as wounds close

Slip below the waves
Warm water washes away
Hands reach out
Catching before slipping
Further into peace
Long minutes of silence
The hush of soft breathing
You stretch out
Reaching both away
And back to touch
Eyes open to find you missing
Not empty
As if the scent of your heart
Lingers in my mouth
Acceptance
And the fresh scent
Of dawn

Rambling thoughts on healing

The thought that we must save ourselves is the bitterest, most hurtful lie. We must be willing to work towards our own bright future this is true. But that we must do it alone, that we must depend on no one, that others must not act on our behalf, must not shoulder part of the burden, must not love. That is base falseness. It is a lie we embrace because our pain tells us it is true. And like all good lies, it has the ring of truth to one who’s hearing is distorted.

We believe it because we are wounded animals, bitten by those who came all false caring before. Who hurt and took and broke and wrought. So when another comes, and wears the face we think we know, we tell ourselves “not now. Not yet. I need to heal before I can try, I can’t let others close, I must heal on my own.” But is this prudence or fear? A little fear is wise, a bit of caution warranted. But hide away and wait as if some point will make you less broken.

I tell you a truth now. Perhaps it is merely my truth, perhaps it is more. The truth is, you will never fully heal on your own. You don’t see all of the places you are broken. You can’t know all of the pieces that are missing and you cannot build without materials that are not found within.
Someone must help. Don’t follow fears council for too long; don’t allow yourself the luxury of building walls. Do not trap yourself. Healing is ever so much harder than we think.

And alone? It’s a long, impossible road. One you may never see the end of. Nor beginning of a new one.

It all comes from one place

We all sit in this stasis
Just wondering what our place is
Waking up we wonder
When will what we built, be plowed under

We’re treading water
Waiting to be reborn

But rebirth is painful
It’s not shameful
To cry our tears
To build up from our fears

We live by forgetting
Let’s change the venue
Change the setting

We’re all just healing
Our broken hearts reeling

But we hold each other up
Our hands around hearts are cupped
Keeping that blood
from spilling
out

Love is the journey
Make no mistake
Without it we’re burning

I’m a Sir not a master
I’ve helped others through disaster
Build you up to set you free
Maybe, someday, that’ll be me

My future choices

After so many missteps, I must begin to consider that it isn’t bad luck. I must accept that the people who I am attracted to are hurting in some way. I think because my first love was hurting and I was her strength. Indeed, we drew strength from each other. So perhaps I’m looking for the echo of that relationship in future relationships. I’m not doing it consciously. But I need to exam my attraction more closely. Not because desiring to help is bad necessarily but to do it as an acquaintance or advisor may be a better option for me emotionally. Going forward anyway. Choices made are already made and I must live in the shadow of those choices.