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Life has hurt; but I am coming to understand why.
Past my stomping foot, my infantile tantrums and piteous self woe.

I see.

Each beat within my ruptured chest aches, not just for me but for every soul I’ve touched-
– Or has touched me.
I feel you, and I sense you long to feel me.
I give what I can, I give myself as deeply as I am able; I give until I break and then I ascend, only to give again.
Soar and glide again.
Because I love you, each and every one of you; and god damn it hurts.
Hurts so fucking good.

Eyes linger and hearts palpitate in unison. A parade of half blind wayward children; cast astray. I with the brave (or exceptionally foolish) dawning the front lines-
-no less wounded only slightly more willing-
To feel.
Feeling.-sorrow, joy, a delirious mixture of the two-
Because I love you; and the only thing that hurts worse than that is trying not to.

My adoration may be sweet, or fierce; nurturing or caustically harsh; but it will always be truthful-
-Ive learned from the best.

So dance with me, cry out with me, live with me in absoluteness; with full knowledge of our burden/tribute: significance, our ecstatic shattered grace, our shifting shadows and elegant lightness; the appetent avenues they weave-
Walk them with me, I will stand guard-
Clearing the tattered and overgrown pathways-
Baring the bruises and battered casualties of the leadership I’ve been gifted.
Because I love you, and it is the only option I could ever possibly fathom.
It is just me.


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