Where Demons Tread

My Love,

There is no right move that I can make any more.

Why would you want this?

Look what has happened to me from lack of our open bridging.

And if you thought and needed to expect me to be brave – I can no longer act on these pretenses.

Not when any move on my part could now be a wrong one.

The situation’s aspects have effectively hog-tied me.

The only way to preserve my sanctity and true care for you in this position is to avoid everything.

I think it likely that my predicament was caused inadvertently.

But I am reliant upon you to correct and fix this canting skew now brewing between us.

A Woman's Plight, Where Demons Tread

Dearest,

I think that you see me, understand me in ways that no one else ever has or ever could.

You bring out what’s been hidden and has dwelled in secrecy, afraid to be redeemed.

I think that I do the same for you.

Something about us just slides into spaces for each other that we need filled the most.

And this both terrifies and exhilarates us.

Terrifies – a sense causing severe contraction.

Exhilarates – a sense causing such rapid expansion.

We have such potential for a wonderful life together, my love.

We draw, shift, and surge each other’s tides.

How do we come together and meet in the middle so that we may both benefit by and guide our passions, rather than being tossed about by their storms?

Where Demons Tread

My Love,

I haven’t written because I have been hurting.

I have wanted you to come be with me.

But why would you choose me – out of anyone else in the world?

I am used to losing.

Even though it doesn’t suit me.

And I want you, need you, desire you – yet feel powerless to claim you on my own.

I love you so much, Baby.

Happy Valentine’s Day.