Pen Me a Picture

Caught in the lips is a three word phrase LOVE must not be named before it calls itself to light For it is LOVE that takes hold of anyone’s sight Sending men and women into blissful craze She dances in the sound of it escaping his lips He grasps at the feeling of it surrounding her hips Strutting into the sentence like a blindfolded maze Two star-crossed “likers” walking into the trap LOVE is not the name for what they feel inside Lust is untamed and behind a false name it hides Wildly playing a movie of their souls Casting two “likers” in lovers roles Decay and folly await the fools who hastily slap The name of LOVE on their life roadmap Love must not be named before it calls itself to light Two likers in love from each heart take a bite Leaving behind their tales of woe, Only to find another liker to call bough Broken, beaten and tired of the pain One liker finds a way to remove the love stain Washing their hands of the gorey mess they left be

I wrote this entry less than one month after a love note to my boyfriend at the time. I wrote a response letter to this man letting him know that I wasn’t interested in getting back together after he sent me a letter asking for just that. Exactly one month after the above entry. I have learned so much. I have understood that sometimes we call things like lust, adoration, admiration and respect “LOVE” when they don’t deserve that name. I rushed way too fast to grab onto this man and reel him in. He unfortunately fell deeply for me and I for him, then I came to reality and cut the cord from him as soon as my gut told me to. Like a boomerang I threw out my love. Upon its return, the boomerang had changed entirely. It was not love anymore.  I am guilty of not knowing my own heart and running with the wind. Unfortunately that makes me an unpredictable, scared of commitment type of woman. My heart and understanding of myself grew so much because of my ex and I need to keep growing befor

I have such tendencies these days to do exactly the opposite of what might project me toward my goals. I have minuscule, yet achievable goals that can’t be reached without certain changes. I have yet to make those changes. Furthermore, I have yet to take any action other than those that project me backwards in fact. Reversed in the timeline of my adult progress. It seems like the days are getting longer and gloomier. Food doesn’t have a taste, music all sounds the same and conglomerates together on my playlist. Light or dark, I am simply tired all the time. I don’t know how to explain this phenomenon other than, I am either clinically depressed, or have lost the meaning of life.  It’s hard to know whether you are living or just surviving or wasting time. When you do the same things everyday, each week meshes with the one before and the one afterward. There is little in my life right now that makes a difference in the world. Or at least, I am too ignorant to know the difference. T