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,
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