Fear Is Our Love

This conflict burrows inside of him

I watch it




against the ancient walls of this cathedral.

He stands

as though I was listening

but by then I was silent


pulled off to the side by that other boy that I loved

and contemplating

my next verse.

Why does he do this?


like a drunk

with giggling words

and sanctions that he feels

are lovely to woman

and me

his dotting angel

smiling at the aftermath.

He's blistering now

but I don't care.

I took a step away

came back

and said more.

I love it when its like this


and tumble


I love the rush

of letting it all out

and knowing that for once

he's really listening.

He forgot

about what I wanted out of all of this

so I remind him

by running away.

I love to talk to myself

and formulate my next plane

this next faze of chaos.

I love it when its like this

voices raised

and hands ready to strike me

I love knowing that he would

bleed me dry

in these moments

it makes it less hard

to say these things.


is our blood.


is our family.


is our love.