Angels can’t love

I walk into the shop I’ve been to many times before.

But now I am someone else.

I see them in there.

Those who come from the past.

They look different.

They see me.

Eyes opening wide.

They see me.

They see that I am beautiful.

More beautiful than before.

They walk over to me.

They want to be close to me.

Arms reaching for me.

That is when I see him.

Something passes between us.

A movement.

But he is not the one to protect me

when the war comes.

When the machine guns come.

Someone else steps in front of me.

I wait for death.

But it doesn’t come.

I see him again.

He is kneeling down.

Someone points a gun at me.

I start crying.

Wings slowly grow

from his shoulder blades.

The soldiers smile and nod their heads.

“Finally,” they say.

“That is what it took.”

They lay down their guns.

I am still crying.

I am safe.

But I am not loved.

Angels can’t love humans.

Not the way we need to be loved.

Exclusively. Exceptionally.

As though we were the only one

needing to be loved

by them.

*This is actually a dream I had while sleeping.

Within the swimming night

Within the swimming night

I can make out

Your

Open heart

Bound by the moon

With its silver arms

Leaning into the window

With hands extended

So that my soul can step out

Of its paralyzed shell

To greet your

Darkness

With its one broken

Wing.

To feel loved

I feel loved by feeling that I am enough.

That I deserve everything just because I am.

To be comforted when I am sad,

Forgiven when I make a mistake,

To be heard when I speak up,

To be understood when I try to explain my emotions.

To be encouraged to pursue my own definition

Of happiness no matter what that is.

I feel loved by feeling that I am lifted when I fall,

To be allowed to have a voice when I am angry,

And to cry like a child when I need to,

Laugh like a child when I want to

And dance like a child when I feel like it.

That is how I feel loved.

That is how you make me feel loved.

To make me feel that I am enough and that I

Deserve everything just because

I am.

An extension of his dream

The rain has merged into solitude

The moon stares straight into dawn

Like a an anchored searchlight.

The wet wind has frozen the lines

Around his unchanged laughter

Reaching for me in his sleep;

An extension of his dream

Searching for a bare shore

 Where troubled waves

Can merge into the familiar crescendo

Of sand and sea.

Self-Love

The way your parents loved you is the way you learn to love yourself. A part of growing up is learning to take care of yourself like your parents took care of you when you were little. Unfortunately not everyone was cared for and loved they way they needed to, and this is often reflected in the way they later take care of and love themselves.

A heart that loves

A heart that loves

fiercely

breaks

ten times

during a day.

A heart that loves

faithfully

mends

ten times

during a day.

A heart that loves

unconditionally

becomes

a patchwork

of joys

and sorrows

with seams

of glowing stiches

sown together

by the resilient

soul.

Without

the heartbreaks

there would be

no healing,

without

healing

there would be no

glowing seams

uniquely crisscrossing

the living heart.