An Angel’s Heart

Manipulate You

My Moon

 

Arm’s Length

I created all these words, hoping you
would want one,
keep one, and
beg for more.

But the more I said, the less
you cared. And the more I cared, the less
you said. The less you showed, the more
I wrote—

Gypsy In Waiting

How dull he must have thought me. . .
to   simply

sit   and   wait.

A Wish

your little sister

One day, your little sister is going to fall for a man who is not kind…
who’s intentions are not pure, a man who treats  her with disregard and disrespect.

You’re going to hate this man. You’re going to want to destroy him. You’ll wonder how one could run off such cowards blood. And in that moment of hate for this man, I hope you remember
you were that same man
to me.

So   instead of looking  him in the eyes, look back at yourself in the mirror—you are the man you now HATE.

Tell yourself, “I don’t care“,  just like you said it to me,  say it [again] for me, for your little  sister, for the man who will treat your sister that way— someday. Tell me how it feels to know your sister is being treated  that way and you are looking at her as she looks at him tears in her eyes begging for sympathy, praying to hold composure, asking God to grant her grace to restrain the fear and keep her pride, and tell us all     YOU DON’T CARE.

Now we all know— you don’t care, you never did, you never will…

but I do— and she does too.

Maybe she’s me, or maybe   I was her. But you’re just that same man, that same man who doesn’t care…

but I did— and she will too.