The human heart holds the capacity

To embellish all modicums of being.

Angel, monster, what a terror you are

Always looking into my closeted spaces

Always tasting, always thinking.

My god, how I love you

And with such compelling stupidity.

I thought surely that much would penetrate

Only it never has for you hold so firmly to your hatred

That no other opinion can be considered.

You misunderstand me when you assign motives

To what are merely gestures of affection.

How is it that motives are permissible in court?

Milky hypotheses that add little more than grief,

There is nothing typical about my contents.

The heart softens under fire,

Like a candle,

Primitive filaments

Reshape themselves each night

Only to turn brittle on cooling.

When I express myself,

It will not be done with mediocrity.

There can be no excuse

So encompassing that it could

Explain justly my actions.

Sometimes there’s no reason,

Sometimes feelings arise spontaneously

Ramifying nimbi, watermarks

Semi-transparent stains devaluing,

The objects they are designed to secure.

having a rough time with Depression right now