I can help it; I can focus on other things
But it seems I’m self possessed on creating love.
It’s a vague light, opaque at best and maybe because
I need things to be perfect
I need to be moving towards the best always
And so I need to find the best in you
Construct monuments out of all of your fallen pieces
Adorn you with every shred of you I’ve reached
And see what I can make of it.
But then what are you but the cloths, the outsides and the pieces
‘till I can’t see your shortcomings
And find that for lack of your pieces
I’ve woven the essence of myself
To shroud you.
Shredded my self-conscience
until I stand there naked
No, barren, without a wisp of myself and you,
Given every picture of me.
Going back to you would make leaving even harder;
Would take the strength remaining,
Sealing my fate to endless pain
Or placing my heart in your hands impossibly.
Neglectful, unaware, distracted.
How could you know how to handle a glass thing?
How could you carry things made
Of an essence out of this world?
But you will when it matters
And I hope that moment finds you both
In His hands.