Friday, July 20, 2012

Don't Forget to Ask

Have I waited to long to say something?

Is it to far gone to ask?

Would I ever compare to you or to what is inside?

The thought of missing you becomes all too much.

What if I were for you and you were for me, but the path never crossed.

Left empty, right away, upward thrust, and downward fall.

You used my pen as the knife, and the rose as the bandage.

But this time I came to ask of you the favor.

Not to become yours, but to just be remembered.

Am I more than a memory?

Does the thought stick?

Can you tell us apart?

Are we still that different?

NO. . . . Yes . . . no.

The inevitable, the indefinite scar me.

Blood Brought

I used to just watch Him bleed all over himself.  I did not want to get near it.  Yet it seemed to pure to be blood, like water that has been untouched.
It would drip to floor and splatter on my shoe.  I knelt down to wipe it.
It seemed to coat my hand, an excess that would not wipe off.
There was a presence in the blood.  One only explained by One.
Scorching insides, and feelings unknown filled me within.
I had seen what no man should go through.
I had found what every man had been looking for.

External Mortification.  Internal Atonement
Mortal Shame.  Immortal Beauty.