Love-

Feeling motivated enough to write for the first time in a long time. There has been a lot of pain surrounding writing for quite some time. I digress.

I would like to write on love.

Not the metaphorical kind we all strive for dishonestly, either.
Love; the kind that comes up when we are at our most hateful.
The kind that pulls you,lazy-eyed from your mattress
as you hear a scream in the night from a neighbors home.
Readied for action at the next sound.
You heard the fear.

Love came to call.

Sometimes love shows up right on the tails of hate
That's how you know it's real.

Real love isn't rose-colored and beautiful
It's a dull ache for humanity that can
cripple the dull and castrate the passionate.

I give you more examples to illustrate just what I speak of here:

Love is what you find when your partner is desperately crying
you've said something that demolished their spirit
Filled with anger and remorseless hatred
(really, you're just hurt.)
You put it all aside and grasp the hand
that you might rather slap away.
Love is mercy when none is asked 

Love binds you to feel the pain others experience
When you would rather block it out.
It's expressly individual and universal.

A riddle unto itself.

It takes accepting authenticity in oneself and in the other
(be it whomever) to love truly.
Vying to love parts is to lust for wholeness in oneself.

Love is true and complete and we all share it.

I'm Okay.

When you say that you are okay
Is that a code for blind
Okay and blind are not the same thing sir

You see a man that is okay
Is a man that has faced down
unokay okayness
and bitch slapped it

He's faced down the demons
of both manic and depressive life forces
He's okay to be
fine. Alright. unfettered.

You are a blind man
Not like you can't see
But that you won't

You put out your own eyes
to screw on spiritual ones
that don't allow you to look inward
and see all the dark crevices
where okay hasn't made a home
It never will when blind eyes seek past it

I think the only thing you have seen
in a good long time
is your own self-righteousness
Self-hatred...
but interestingly,
no self.

So you can tell me you're okay
I'll tell you I'm okay
like I am supposed to
But until you lay down your disabilities
and turn seeing eyes upon them
it won't all be okay.