Writings of a Sinner

For all sin and fall short of the glory of God

Category: Love

If I were to say…

If I were to say “Goodnight” to your “good night”, would it change your mind?

Would you welcome my kisses like the sunrise?

Would you let me fall into love through a bluesky?

Could I cover and protect you like a rainfly?

When I say “goodnight” to your “good night”.

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The things I’d tell you.

Oh boy, you’re a wild one. 

Your love is so blazingly hot that it’s corrosive.

You do not see the damage you deal until it’s done.

Fix fix fix until you can no longer lift the tools and you neglect yourself. 

If you asked me for advice, these are the things I’d tell you. 

Take a deep breath. 

You are of no use broken.

Stand up straight, but talk softer. 

 Love slower… If you can. 

Lastly,

A bird’s beauty is in their freedom, not their flight. 

Too close 

I almost lost it all today. I almost lost it all. 

I came so close to to the breaking point. So close to a terrible fall. 

A quake shook my heart today. Your portrait is still firm against its wall. 

I almost lost my heart today. I almost lost it all. 

Tender is the Flame

Tender is the flame that licks at your heels. 

It kisses your skin and singes the your heart. 

Unscathed is no option here in the fire. 

But you find the pain much worse when you’ve been apart. 

It’s Nothing. 

Let me love you forever.

But you’re shaking your head.

Did I say love? 

I meant kiss.

Why don’t you hold out your hand. 

It’s but a gesture of friendship. 

Its meaningless. 

Forget I asked. 

See you tomorrow. 

Abundance

There’s so much that it’s almost unbearable.

It can’t be held in two hands, let alone one beating heart.

It overflows.

It takes control.

Not even my icy hands can stop His warmth.

It is the reason that I live.

I have an abundance of love to give.

Picky Bastard

It’s not a matter of can or can’t.

My ability to charm somebody into liking me is irrelevant.

It’s a matter of motivation, voice, and not flinching.

Is she motivation for me to be a better man than I could ever hope to be?

Is her voice something that I’m going to crave to feel crashing against my ears like thunder

Is she going to flinch when I freely surround her with all the love I can manage?

That is the matter at hand.

That is why I am a picky bastard.

Salvation

Clean tears blaze tracks through
miles of fire-hardened sin. Clear
proof of salvation.

Wonder (Haiku)

Sometimes I wonder

If my hands will ever be

filled by your warm heart.

Crisp

Is that not the freshest air you’ve ever tasted?

Does it not wash the years away with every breath?

Does it not prove, without a doubt, the strength of our Creator’s love?

Does it not open your eyes?

Are you not awoken from your slumber?

Why do you breathe in a cloud of dust,

when life is at your lips?

Love is at your door.

It is knocking and it wants to come in.

Strives to revive you.

Yearns to fill your lungs.

Unblemished.

Raw.

Pure.

Whole.

Crisp.