No doubt

there are always

happier, more love-filled lives ;

but the love that saves

is born in the solitary heart ;

that is, 

you decide ;

you

where you are ;

you 

who cry 

and live

alone ;

the love you give

and,

when it’s hard,

swear by,

act on,

that love,

that forgives all,

saves 

and decides

your life. 

*

What you can’t change,

how do you meet it? 

Do you fear it, 

covering your eyes and,

if not, 

shooting glances,

either resentful

or self-pitying?

How can you love

what makes 

your prison?

And if you did

what then?

To say,

‘I see you.

I see you.

I see where I am. 

I see where you are. 

I see. 

I feel my pain. 

And I wonder:

what?

What… 

What if I’m wrong?

to fear,

to hate?

What if what

I feel as a weight,

a punishment, 

a curse,

I make… 

I –

I make last

in hating,

in fearing,

in not knowing how to look in the eye,

what if I

in refusing to love

blind myself

to my own trick,

the key out

the whole time

in my hand?

*

Don’t waste your suffering.

You fall and you get up. (Or you don’t. But you decide.)

What if 

you, 

after falling,

forgave yourself

promptly,

fully,

seriously,

and moved on?