It’s what causes pain.

It’s what makes me believe love is possible, and once I find it convinces me it isn’t real.

It’s remarkable how it hides behind my heart, then reappears by ripping it out.

It’s what makes me think she’ll come back.

Even You said You feel sorrow and wept!

How can we be a perfect design?

How can we be told to love others with all our hearts?

How can the one thing that lets us feel love never feel the pain it causes?

How cruel.

Even when I’m in my deepest pain I come back to You.

Why did You make ME like this?

I left too late.

Twice.

One set mine.

One set not.

One suffered.

One took.

Both took, but it was given.

I’ll leave it alone.

It doesn’t matter.

They are the landscape.

Unknowingly.

Not the story.

They were worth the price.

Planting seeds in the same field on different days.

I have my flower.

Thank you.

You say you are.

I thought you were.

You’re good at what you do.

Let’s just leave it at that.

Distance, immaterial.

It matters for everything else.

Serendipities even on a scale.

Waiting.

Inevitable.

Chaos surrounds it.

Right above the divine.

Deliberately.

Inside a universe dedicated to it.

Never apart.

Closed yet present.

Closing more each day.

One.

Tell them.

No one can explain.

It can only be felt.

It can never be lost.

Days that once reciprocally inspired tender and thoughtful gestures, then slowly withered into labored ministerial acts devoid of genuine pageantry.

They felt measurably colder this year.

I noticed all of them.

I hope they were warmer for you.

We don’t say anything.

She watches.

Only one of us belongs.

But it’s not us.

She doesn’t know any better.

She’s enjoying what she imagines.

But it’s not there.

We’ll go all around the world.

We smell the entire world.

We felt it.

It’s so cold.

We’re back safe.

But none of us are.

Especially her.

I hate everything you did.

You were so good.

She cried.

It’s my fault.

She’ll move on.

She won’t be the same.

No one can help her right now.

I hate you.

You will never feel what we feel.

None of you believed like she did.

I’ll make it better.

But right now I can’t.

I can’t stop your tears while mine are still burning.

They met their mark.

Innocence harmed.

Do you remember?

Did my tears help?

You consoled me.

How did I get here?

Tell me everything.

Please?

You don’t deserve what I’ve given you.

I didn’t deserve it when I received it.

He was wrong.

I was wrong.

How dare he reach out to you when I’m here.

But I just arrived.

I didn’t help you.

I’m sorry.

Take my hand.

We’re both here now.

Everything accounted for.

I’ll watch over the ripples.

I won’t be the solution and the cause anymore.

So much thought.

So much planning.

The unknown.

Bullish.

Nascent guilt revisits constantly.

Water.

Bread.

Fire.

Coward.

Traveling everywhere except where I planned.

Nothing accounted for.

No plan for this.

Everything remains unknown.

Except me.

The gate was broken.

A quiet anxiety always present.

Fearful it would become what we dreaded.

We repaired it apart.

My potential.

Your service.

I should have built a new gate.

They came back.

I couldn’t keep them out.

You returned to your broken gate.

I hope you returned because you think it’s safe.

I would believe you chose me.

Stay where you belong.

I am where I belong too.

II. Steps

Each step was everything.

Each step was nothing.

You gave yourself entirely.

I didn’t need it.

I wouldn’t let it go.

The turquoise hid me.

The white caps blinded you.

I needed distractions to distract you.

You knew.

You said nothing.

We shared everything.

We shared nothing.

III. 17 & 6 = 2 to 3

A designed reluctance that was challenging.

Was it true?

You are that cunning.

Burdens undertaken.

Voluntarily.

At the head of the table.

You let me sit there.

What was my prize?

Emasculating challenges.

Predetermined decisions.

Paths I never earned.

Feelings I never wanted but deserved.

Admired potential turned to strings.

Why couldn’t I feel them?

You knew why.

You told me.

The effort outlasted the smiles.

The poles switched.

Side by side, touch disappeared.

On the sixth seventeen.

Two became three.

I was left with nothing.

It was everything.

IV. Unframed

I wanted to be everything.

I thought I was.

I cared while I doubted.

I loved while I disconnected.

I drowned you in both of them.

I retaliated against your past.

I blamed you.

I hated you.

I used your patience to soothe myself.

I wasted you.

I made you disappear.

I needed you to heal.

I needed you to find myself.

I needed you in every way you served me.

I needed you by my side and I didn’t know why.

You’re gone.

I arrived.

If you would have asked me sooner I would have framed them.

When you asked I no longer needed you.

I didn’t want you by my side.

You have to frame them on your own.