Saturday, January 7, 2012

the ethos of my love

forgive me
for i know not how to love
at least not the way poems tell you it should be done
or the feel-good hollywood way
all i can say is i’m sorry
to myself
for not finding this out sooner
the cat’s clawed its way out of the bag
spilling missiles 
of false selves and fragile egos
and as far as the ethos of my love goes
it goes like this
i’ll always have my hands clenched in fists
and my sneakers on
doesn’t matter how right it feels
my heels are already halfway to hesitation
i haven’t figured out how to love you 
without losing me
i wish i could love less
give less
want less
be less
but regardless
of this folly
i am
i am more
i want more
i deserve more
i give more than any woman in her right mind ever would
mind you
who said anything about a right mind?
the bottom line is
i love
and when i love, 
i love with all i’ve got
i pull out all the stops
and then some
i come undone before the fat lady’s sung
i become the disappearing woman in act two
until all that’s left is the “you” in this equation
can you blame me though?
for holding on this tight?
for not being able to sleep at night without touch?
when you think about the kind of love i’ve never known,
do you really think I’m asking for too much?
when every tender moment i’ve ever felt 
has slipped like grains of sand
through the hands of innocence
when every grown up who should’ve left a blueprint
of how this is supposed to unfurl
left me to bleed silent prayers
only to wake with swollen eyes and fear-soaked curls
i’m asking you hear me
to hold my hand and guide back to my path
and when i’m unable to tell myself the truth
i’m leaving that to you
to whisper
remind me
this isn’t about 
that the only way out
is the way i came in
and if i’m ever to love

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