Those dreams hijacked your peaceful state of mind, slamming you at 850 rounds per minute, an assault riffle crafted with your name emblazoned on its body.

But those dreams meant nothing, they only meant you were unfit to attempt reality.

I dream of sharing myself with you,
completely free - unashamed - ,
if only to feel like I can breathe,
to not choke on the heaviness of living.

We all have the ability to be brave. Not just a select few of us, but all of us. At any time. Giving up is not the way to live.

I feel like I'm losing control, whenever these thoughts turn to you.

I've learned so much, already, in loving you.

That poem that illustrates my heart and that I conveniently lose and cannot pen again...

God loves us even when we don't love ourselves.

Your soul can love
another.
Time and time again
you will love....

Because honestly - I can't take the silence of you, when you hold white lilies and hymnals to your chest, and all I wish to do is sing into you.

If honesty kills, then I'll risk dying.