"our parents taught us to be careful with glasses and with our bodies. they taught us that the passions of childhood are impossible, that we should trust men in white suits, that people cannot perform miracles, and that no one leaves on a journey without knowing where they are going. break the glass, i thought to myself, because it's a symbolic gesture. try to understand that i have broken many things within myself that were much more important than glass and i'm happy i did. resolve your own internal battle and break the glass."
last night i awoke and walked into the garden's dew. mist collected in my curls and i wept. love came to me and i accepted. the Mother, the Woman, i had met seven years ago returned to my side. above me, showering me with truth, i lay open, gutted from its entirety. i hear you, breathe you, this water and dirt enveloping me is love.
i've been paralyzed with fear - fear of rejection, acceptance, and even success. sometimes i couldn't rise out of bed, under sheets of darkness, disappointment. the sun in my sky was a bruised apple and my heart was swollen with shallow sexual compliments and drunken abatements.
god is love. did you hear me, god is love. but can i give love without the promise of return? without dogmatic repercussions and compulsive hair pulling? can i give it without a "you" to give it to? can i save it for me?
cause damn, i thought my joy, ecstasy came from you. i cried for days when you wouldn't acknowledge, accept my love, you drowned in those blue blankets and i stared out upon the sea of asphalt for your profile in the shadows. but my pyramid was building. brick by brick. and if god created us for love then everything leading us to sadness is of our own doing. own it.
i thought love meant security, a pact against all odds, a commitment. but every promise i've made a mutiny on. and if i fall love, may it be from a high place because i am ready to sit in silence, to jump in the inferno of my own madness and sip the froth.
i knew i wanted this. to break the looking glass that peers out instead of in. i see you sitting there. do you see me?
