Kris

I’m looking within.

Getting used to my skin.

I’m doing ok, If your referring to my chin

It’s pointed up.

But.

I’m questioning god’s decision

To make my match a man of addiction.

This feels like fiction. Not MY man

Locked up with no provisions.

The only way forward is to begin

Forgiving each other of our mutual sin.

I’m reading, needing, overfeeding. But Bleeding,

seems like the only way I can rediscover any feeling.

Numb is a feeling though right?

Why is holding onto people my hardest fight?

They say loss is the greatest pain

I’ve lost but I’ve fairly gained

I love people with a future and past

But has my past left me in chains.

I’m done holding onto this pain

I’m not weak to be the only one that remains

Alive and untouched by additions powerful reign.

I’m an old, safe winter jacket

Protected from the evils in your wallet

And from what’s in your pant pockets.

Warms you from the inside out.

Loves you without a doubt.

Great in the cold but worthless in a drought.

Maybe my layers need shed so new visions can sprout.

I hope this will end in a battle won.

We’ll grow to the sky together or shoot off to separate horizons

Either way both of us will wizen.

And for years’ time and again,

I will continue to think how grateful I am

To be blessed with the privilege of having you as my first true man.