Corinthians.

If love is patient and love is kind, then why does ignore the tears we bring to our lover's eyes?
How can I love another soul only to lose all self-control, barricade myself in a room with insults and obscenities as the padding on its walls.
I love unconditionally, without expectation, then harbour resentment which materializes as frustration when it's not reciprocated.

If love does not envy then tell me, how did I feel resentful of the simplicity with which my partner loved me, when my own journey was an emotional, and wild ride?
Uncharacteristic of love to boast or be proud, yet my own experiences with it fill me with guilt that permanently lingers, like a storm-cloud that shrouds the world in grey, then turns it upside down.

Love is not meant to dishonour others, yet here we are ashamed that we let down our guard.
If only I had held on tighter, neither of us would now be lost.
Remorse is a wicked thing as it will not let me let go, knowing I have caused you pain and scarred your soul with my twisted misinterpretation of love.

It's rumoured that love is not self-seeking but, in retrospect, it's clear I always put myself first.
I belittled you, repeatedly; each barb cut away layers of your confidence, and then I pursued you until you were convinced that all I uttered was a lie.

I commend you now for staying in my wicked game for as long as you did, admire your resilience as you became skillfully adept at handling my illness.

Not easily angered, love can only withstand so much before it has had all that it can take and decides that's more than enough.
Forced to be calm and bite its tongue for far too long, our love began to choke from all the toxic trauma that it had swallowed.

Love is not supposed to keep records of wrongs but how should it forget all the sadness, and somehow just be strong?
Is it eventually not a lack of love for oneself that keeps forgiving another's abuse despite putting them through Hell?

I delighted in evil though I denied it, depriving us of liberation from the truth.
As we held one another for the last time, I wished I'd never been such a fool.

Always protects, trusts, hopes and perseveres; if only I'd learned this sooner, maybe we would have been in love for years.

Love never fails but once I allowed ego to invade our love, insecurity was all that could prevail.

Alone.

Logic would be appreciated if it helped me figure out a way to be okay,
to survive each tragedy, like acts of terrorism that leave me shaken but unscathed.
I no longer believe in miracles now that hope has let me down.
I had faith once, too, until it showed me that we are all alone,
until the day we die and from the moment we are born.
In theory, all the strategies to stay safe sounded like they could work,
until I tried to practice them and saw that my anger could not be reversed.
Deterred and feeling desperate, I tried to stay hanging on
though my grip was weakening with each new blow that I was dealt.
Reason became unreasonable to me, as fictitious now as fairy tales of mermaids in the sea.
Unable to accept the desert that I woke up and found myself dehydrated in, although I could acknowledge that my aggression was responsible for my loved ones' abandonment.
Unrealistic to assume the casualties of the war I waged against myself
were saints and could repeatedly forgive me for my torment.
I wish that I could just get it right so that love and I
would not always be like two ships passing in the night.

Holy War.

In you I saw the world, you became the eighth wonder faster than I could run away.
But then you took me by surprise,
I was caught off guard and shell-shocked when you left me,
now I'm blind.
My soul was elated by your touch, I felt like the only man alive from your attention.
Now I have been robbed of my ability to feel, my nerves unnerved in your absence.
I swear I can still smell the fragrance of your breath that gave me chills.
Each day seems longer and more empty now that you're not here.
Homesick because I miss the distraction that I felt inside your arms.
Hours could pass and then you'd depart,
oh how I craved you then, wishing you would stay.
Almost as if I knew a day would come when we'd say our last goodbyes.
Now I'm burning; my dreams can only be satisfied by you.
Validated by your existence, now the threads holding me together become loose.
I am still under your spell, just one look from you and I could fall again.
Hopeful that our story is not over, just on hold as I pray we can still grow old together.
I traveled far and wide, restless to find my missing piece;
my search led me to you and I knew instantly that you and I were meant to be.
My quest for love took me to California, Sydney and Halifax,
but I was not fulfilled until I looked up and found you staring back.
A holy war inside me that led me to Mecca and the Vatican,
unaware the God I was looking for lived inside you, the cure to my suffering.
Circumnavigated the globe searching for a reason to keep my faith alive,
and then you arrived and I melted like two inches of snow on a warm day.
The collision of our hearts was more powerful than an atomic bomb;
two souls that fit together as though part of some bigger plan.
My love flowed from me to you and back again;
my strength increasing as I felt like I was being revived.
Now I call you just to hear your breath, I close my eyes and pretend it's on my neck.
Gone now as I mourn your loss and it becomes increasingly clear,
that I am responsible for our ruin;
I just wish that I had cherished you when you were here.