AdonisCross's profile

It’s not because you lived in paradise, and saw a planet perfect in its youth, and walked around it, never thinking twice about your being naked as the truth; It’s not because you skipped your childhood years (though mine were far from great, I’ll let it go), heard Elohim the way no mortal hears Him anymore, and had no earthly foe. It comes from this: you got to be alone, believing all you had was all you’d get or need; there was no way you could have known what awesome thing was not discover...

I know, though I intend to love you well, in keeping with instructions from our Lord, my erring, human nature will afford a string of chances for the spirits of hell to take advantage of my flesh, and dwell within it — so those words I have abhorred and sworn I would not speak may then be poured out of my mouth, each one a loaded shell — as yours are now. I know it may appear that when you injure me, I close my eyes in anguish, hurt by one for whom I care — but I can bear my wounds. You see a...

I said you were a most unwelcome guest the day you introduced yourself as pain, and yet you come to visit me again, a falcon shrewdly swooping on a nest before there lives a moment to protest or fly away, a time to try in vain, delaying what will come; I must remain immobile as you tear into my chest. It's after your attack, when I am spent, I notice you commit your worst offense, for when I take my pen, to document what happened here, to make a little sense of it, I ask you, "what was your i...

This isn't just a wrinkle on my skin; It isn't just a tally of my years. It represents a soul that fights to win, An earnest heart that boldly perseveres No matter how the cynics rate the cost. It symbolizes every love I've known Or hoped to know, or ultimately lost. It chronicles exactly how I've grown With every minor step or major stride, When hope arose, and when it quickly dropped, My every laugh and every time I've cried. Above all else, it shows I haven't stopped My tireless pursuit of...

I hope I have a cold the day we meet -- The kind that makes me sleepy, makes me ache -- So you might feed me soup, and rub my feet, To try to make me glad I'm wide awake. When you arrive, I hope it seems you'll break Beneath the weight of sadness and defeat -- Then I can murmur jokes, to try to make Your troubles well aware they can be beat. Together, we can pity pairs whose health And happiness relieved them of the chance To make their first encounter something rare -- A moment that provides...