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 It is a lonely feeling when you are aching for the connection. When you feel it buzzing in your heart and you cannot release it. It pulses with each passing day. But all you can do is wait. 

Sit back and admire them in silence. Let your heart swell with longing. 

Daydreaming. Pondering. 

I see your soul. It is so, so bright. I want to touch it like it touches mine. You are genuine, pure. A rare person. Your smile pours life in me. 

But my love is not given freely. So I will wait. I will be patient for you. I will not make the same mistake. You have earned my trust, but my love is limited. 

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You were something else. Something I had never seen before. Your soul was bright. Almost as bright as your smile and your eyes. I drank in your words like fresh water. They were so full of wisdom and happiness. I wish you would have spoken more. Your outlook on life was so foreign. You changed my perspective on so many things by taking my mind to better turns. I yearned for our conversations, our banters and your laughter. Our moments together were indescribable. Unreplaceable. 

But now all is empty. You left me raw. Open. And afraid. You have made my walls thicker. The top is unreachable. I cannot love like that again. Trust is scoffed at. When you reach out, I feel as if I need to break my own hand. Before touching yours.  

The Hook.

I hold on. 

It is tearing me a part. 

I am suffering. 

It is bitter. 

Souring, curdling in my mouth. 

A blister in my throat. 

It is hard to move past it. 

I grit my teeth. 

I am suffering. 

Because you have hurt me. 

It seeps through my pores. 

It burns. 

 

I will never forget what you did. 

Because it scarred me. 

I am suffering. 

I am on the hook. 

I feel it piercing my core. 

Because I am holding on. 

"The only person who is on the hook when we hang on to resentment is ourselves. We are the ones who are suffering." J. Kristina 

To the Grave

My love and I
meet under the sky
and dance as we witness
each age
pass by.

She is peace,
security 
in
sameliness.

I am passion,
the thirst
for
change
and
growth.

She is warmth, the pride
in tradition.

I am progress,
the blaze of
revolution.

And though we may
exist forever,

one cannot live

without
the other.

Caged

Her thoughts are not in your control. 

Her feelings should be free, as the sound of chiming bells. 

Clip her wings, tell her lies. 

Shine those rose colored glasses. 

Watch her live behind a latched door as her spirit slips away.  

So you can keep her in sight. 

In sight of those rose colored glasses.

You sit with no sound. 

Never cry nor shout. 

As if you are a sunflower stuck in the ground. 

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Their failures plague you us
over and over.

They are the reason
why I fight so hard,
why I cry so hard.

They have tampered with 
your vision and heart.

They have control 
over your actions,
your thoughts,
our love.

Dictating
something that is
no longer theirs.

Because of them
I have to fight
for my position,
your love,
and your trust.

There is no love
if there is no faith.
And they have stripped
that to your core.

To fix what they have broken,
I will remain on my knees
screaming for you
to stop pushing me down.

I will tenderly gather
each piece, one by one.
Loving each one
until you feel whole again.

Love is No Sin.

Normality is a crowd-sourced fantasy.
But it turns every single silent person in this park into an enemy.

She'd take one salty glance at two guys kissing and be hissing vinegar our way.
"I've got nothing against gays," She'd say, "But do you have to do it in front of my kids?"
And she runs away. They never do stay long enough to look you in the eyes.

Jesus saved a lot of time when He died for all our crimes that He would've wasted, teaching small minds that love is no sin. 

So why is a goodbye kiss, no walk in the park?

Sean Lionadh