When I look back
through all the warmth I sought,
my heart boxed open
for all the taking,
I ask
why I seem to never learn
how to love me.
When I mixed white dove amongst the crows,
I turned grey
as I worked to lead one back to the light,
to later find I am not made
for the company of the hidden dark,
that seeks to gather a darkness
hidden inside of me,
hidden in us all.
My mind is led to rediscover
the path of truth
— Jesus loving my being
before it was even formed,
that to this day through all its bleak
He does not stop to speak.
How He is never one
who turns hot then cold or lukewarm
as with the loves which promised
never to hurt,
whose hurt I came to feel,
as with all the loves I only knew.
He has been more jealous
than I was when He...