the blues

somebody told me once that love was my strongest point, something she marveled about me, the strength to whole heartedly give of myself and my time for those i loved. friends, family, a beau... and she told me, 'love is you, when you decide to distance yourself from it... you lose who you really are.

well life has its cruel twists like barbs cutting deep into the very heart of my strength, as if trying to test my resilience, my endurance, as if mocking, 'can you take this too? and that? is love really it? is it strength or weakness."
and like a weary warrior i trudge on encouraging those fallen by the way side that 'love is worth it, it is what makes you beautiful within and without,'
but
after being hit with the blows and barbs of excruciating pains and aches in form of people that claim love or that somehow with 'strength' you choose to love, hurt, betray, forget who you are... then i ask the same questions those i encouraged asked...
'is love strength?"

'why must i be vulnerable only to get crushed?'
'i begin to understand the boy that could not be helped, who told me stonily, 'why must i bare myself to endure an ungracious cold human being. no i don't love no more and that's how i will stay,' and i thought him lost and alone.
but i find myself asking the same question.

i find myself on the inside of my own depression looking out at the world rosy and alive while i die on the inside, groping to join beauty because i know it is where i belong but i find myself wanting...scarred, touched up, scarred and touched up again, so much i am losing who i am and why love is important when all its handed me is barbs, strong thick and sharp.
and i am lost..
i know my greatest strength is what i need but i dont know how to make it to the otherside because i want to leave it behind.
step out of my broken disillusioned self, weep for it, sing a dirge, morn, bury me and live like those dead to love

dead to love....

it feels safer this way.