We talk and type and text and take
the time of those we will never make
the ones we love; its past now: loved,
as we try to forget the past, its shoved
to the back of my black mind
as it twists and turns and tries to find
a way to make sense of this bind.
This bind’s unkind, a bondage, blue,
masochistic; I am for you.
I am? Its passed. You’re past it, through.
I remove the shackles, keep walking through.
Take a leap of faith, they say to me, to you,
but for me the leap is toward truth.
I release the chains of desire for faith,
and I remove the ropes of hope that burn and chafe,
for me the freedom is a different shape.
Its cold and dark and twisted to the core
and I wrap myself around it more
with every word I hear from your hot, hot, mouth
with your heated breath and tastes of dreams
of stars and hearts and scars and screams
of pain and fear and misery
that is what becomes of love to me.
The freedom roars and roars until its hoarse
behind the wall I made myself
I hear the bellows more and more
but the freedom comes from my own health
and right now the wall is freeing
as I sneak peeks at other beings
and feel invincible behind my shield
Ive found a bond, an Achille’s heel,
that plays as Samson’s golden locks
and in my heart this new freedom mocks
but behind my wall I feel safe and free
from the pain that others can pass on to me.