I was told you were a trait
Owned by an immortal
Given to jealousy & rage

From the beginning
You were black and shaded
Dark ink, ominous skies

You were hope
With pending doom
Just a narrow escape

I was told you were free-
For a price

Depending on me

Acceptance was piggy-backed
A removable pack

Some bruises, too black
Some scars, too shameful
Some flaws, too real

I was told
To experience you
I must turn on myself

Banish feelings
Cripple the mind
Be ever so pure

Run the race
Pass the test
Beat my body

Become a slave.

“No one does good, not one.
All have turned away.”

Divorced from you
A sinner.

You were a paradox
Dressed up, edited
Honeyed words
Bewitching tale


How could I possess you?
When you were a transplant?
And my vessel, diseased?

I’d reject you
Fail you
I know what I am-

The Bible tells me so.

You were wed to fear
And came to me spoiled
So you slipped away

Again and again-

Silly me.

You were never love at all.

Image Credit: Currently Wandering

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