I feel so conflicted
And yet so in love
But am I just afflicted
When push comes to shove
I can't say it out loud
I can't speak what I mean
Maybe I'm too proud
To ever come clean
I don't want to hurt
Either myself or you
You wouldn't be the first
That I've shown my colors to
But will you be the last
And perhaps be the one
To acknowledge my past
And show me how it's done
Can I forgive myself
For the hurt I will cause
Or will I keep running
While you try to cut your loss

Quarantine
Masks and evasive glances
Huddled groups
And
Spaced out picnics
Long lines for household needs
Hurricanes
Then rainbows
Promises of hugs
Smiles through technology
And waves across the hall

~

Lazy days and lunch in bed
Blankets on the couch and
Romantic comedies
Popcorn and dark chocolate
Date nights in, and
Homemade steak
Drive-through milkshakes
Walks down empty city streets
Holding hands with
My love

~

“Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.”

This line from Hartley Coleridge’s Sonnet VII is the basic sum of what I’d like to write about today.

Although some forms of love include feelings and fancies, they are not true love. Love in its purest form goes far beyond feelings and fantasies.

We’ve all heard of Abraham Lincoln and what he did to abolish slavery. Did you know, though, that he wasn’t the first president to hold that stance? After John Quincy Adams served as the 6th president of America, he became a member of the House of Representatives and spent his time fighting slavery. (Fox) However, Lincoln receives more attention because he was successful while Adams wasn’t. And this is a tendency I have; to determine someone’s importance by what they’re doing and whether or not they’re successful.

I am the rain
And you
Are the sunshine
We are
Similar
In that we both
Nurture
And encourage growth
You with your warmth
And me with
My tears
Our conversations
Are flowers
And together
We grow a garden

Oh, the world is dark
The storm within is raging, rushing
Lighting strikes, but lends no light
And night is bleaker with its hit
Fog and mist rise ‘round the tree-trunks
Binding still the black to night
And with its ever-reaching fingers
Steals the hope of daybreak’s joy
But from the mountains creeps a promise
Light has flown across the sky
And reaching here you see it’s figure
A winged being, petite and fair
She stands there quietly, ethereal
And in her eyes there shines the Hope

Long distance is
Reaching
To touch your face
Then realizing
That my fingertips can only
Brush
The screen.
Long distance is
Rubbing my thumb
Along the back of my
Own hand
Because it’s
Empty
Without your hand to hold.
Long distance is
Looking for your face
Every time I’m in a crowd.
It’s looking up
With a smile, to share
A joke, or trade
Glances
But you’re not there to
Catch
My eye.
Long distance is
Knowing I belong with you

It wasn’t okay. It absolutely wasn’t okay, and she knew it; not just deep down inside her chest but floating up in the shallows, near her eyes, too. The truth was there. And the truth was that what he had done was not okay. But regardless of that truth, that undeniable, unsettling, concrete truth, Enna found herself speaking that age-old lie.
“It’s okay,” she said. She smiled so Arlo would know she had meant it.
“Okay.” He accepted her lie. He was soul-blind, so it was easy.

You
Are my music
Without you my world is
Cold and
Gray
My thoughts are
Stale
A flatline of
Empty static
But with you I
Sing for joy
With
You, I
Bask
In the beauty that is time
I don’t mind the mundane
Because with
You
The mundane is more than
Bearable
It is rendered
Beautiful, by
Your sunshiny melody
Your thoughtful
Lyrics
And the rhythm
Of your
Heart
With you, I
Need
No other
Song

It’s peaceful out
And gentle wind
Whispers love into my soul
It’s quiet here
And rest I’ve found
Your sunshine careful in its glow
And standing here
I look around
I see my raindrops falling down
As mist rises up
To meet the rays
And lend its nurturing spirit there
So flowers bloom
And buds break forth
In graceful beauty all around
While clouds appear
And lend their shade
From overwhelming bursts of joy
And in this space
Of growth and peace