Sometimes I notice that I don’t know how to love.
It’s so prevalent,
it sticks to me like the summer air.
I have so much to give,
yet it stands as a frozen brick in my heart.
It is not cold, however.
It’s frozen in time.
It is me and I’m young,
quite small really.
I can feel the openness I’ve left behind,
so electric some even stayed with me.
Now I am here,
the sweetness of love has sprinkled my lips,
yet I feel his earthiness as warm and repulsive.
What things have I not unearthed within myself to feel such repulsion of such a beauty?
Or is it a matter of instinct?
Tell me why I must feel such conflictions!
Ah…. but I know, the answer is simple.
I was raised by a love that was ever so conditioned.