Your halcyon smile hallows
my inveterate sympathies.
An ally in altruistic endeavor,
you drag me to the surface,
my tragedies and contagions,
my triumphs and catholicons.
Absolution softens the scars
and contours of my heart.
I just want to be good
to feel the light addressing my divinity,
to feel purity unlacing my vestiges.
If ethereal, than I am grounded
by the cradle of your arms.
If embedded, than I am thrown
palms up into the naked air.
Knowing you is what makes me human.
Anathema, monster, bile-spiller
I will not render myself possessed
by the adversarial gleam
in your wide, soul-splitting eyes.
I will not ravage with
grimace or malignancy.
I will not become you,
however, relentless this torture.
My heart grows dark, almost tepid,
like a puddle left to weather.
Within that ominous stillness
I gather my resolve, my genius
and press my sins to paper that I
may change in myself what I cannot,
as of yet, forgive in you.
Encase you wondered I have been sick but I am on the mend. I am feeling iffy about my writing today though yikes.