Carrying the cost

For me to go back the way I came,

For me to stop in the middle of this journey and turn away,

It would cost me too much.

So please be waiting with fighting arms and love grounding you.

Please don’t ask for anything more

Because I’m scared by my devotion to you.

My will to burn all that I am and journey back for you.

But those things can’t be hidden from heaven.

So I carried on,

with guilt and shame of the person I used to be,

the girl you remember,

and now she’s gone.

Bid me release my love.

For all this worry is far from the feeling of being free.

It cost me so much to find this love.

I Bade the curse of you

my plans to leave

And any belief of an end –

I’ve fought for this love,

Traveled to the middle of your storm.

But maybe I’ve gone too far with this love.

Can’t you meet me here?

Won’t you run on ahead?

Because it would cost me too much to turn back around.

It would cost me all that I am.

Repurposed Love

I was intertwined in the campfire of your anointing
with candescent ash flickering in the melted streams of sun,
I was taken by the shadowed blessing looming over this alter.
Bushels prime for roasting,
Sky wet with the dew of morning
and you were nowhere to be found.
Silent wind passing through,
Crows falling from the sky
and I was still filled with doubt.
But nature knows the truth:
Deep in the woods of another,
there’s no turning back.
Forever lost but willingly never found.
You’ve held me in your wildwood,
barefoot and delicate,
still miles away from you…
Am I to die here without?
Just when freedom glistens, when branches belch their opened wide truth, you disappear.
What good is the truth with no soul to stand on, no lips to push through,
it can’t be birthed with no ears to conceive of it.
And so I’m rooted in your silence, immovable.
I should have leaped through my escape instead of offering to burn for you, but I’ve just grown.
Naivety is my bloodline,
Love my mother;
Your forest a chance for my rebirth.
May your neglect suffocate the source of me that remains in you.
Reclaiming and revitalizing my body to be rescued by another.
Here I will leave my value burrowed deep where you left it.
As you tend to your weald, it is me you will trample over,
For it is I who remained, who withered,
Who nourishes the bloom of your wilderness.

This altar requires an offering but I can’t burn for you…

Our waves stole the show, but the wind subsided.
Pieces of glass cut into the vastness of the shore until we were washed.
Now they exist deep beyond, they’ve been given back to the sea, but our offering has been rejected.
Our false accord rebuked.
Forced to abandon the threshold that was forged and drift towards the ones we belong to.
Although my soil is combined with your flood, I still don’t know if it is holy ground.
But should it require blood for us to sanctify this land, I’ve killed off every depravity that still remained, plucked the roots and pierced their hearts.
And should it demand grace to purify our kingdom, I’ve kissed every sin that was birthed out of dereliction, dropped every burden and let go of every scar.
What sacrifice will you bring to this altar, my Adam?
Tell me about the wilderness you’ve had to prevail, the range of view it has granted you.
I crave knowledge about what life you’ve come to find can breathe far beyond your depths and that which drains you to survive.
Recall to me the stories of how you wailed over the humanity of such evil and reasoned for it to stay.
Bemoan what’s been banished from your Eden, which offerings you have brought to lay before our king.
And should his ocean wash it away and drown you out, I will question why you’ve neglected the gift of so much time.
Is your rebirth only to be reached through such ablutions? Such faintheartedness…
Or will a merciful flame dance on top of all seven seas, receiving yours and my journey, blessing the benediction of rebirth.
But if all has remained and you’ve only acquired blood with no benevolence, nothing will be gained from such the offering, unless the sacrifice be my body.
Less, you cut me open and lay me in the tide as the atonement for all your weariness and pain, casting me back into the deep to brave it alone.
So my love, before I approach this altar, look me in my eyes and face my longing soul,
Is it I who will burn, or will we finally be born again, reunited with one another, void of any fear of what corrected us before?
Because I can’t burn for you, I didn’t shatter alone.

On the Threshold by which I stand…

I will grow.
On the threshold by which I stand…
I will learn.
On the threshold by which I stand…
I will listen.
No more, no less,
I have done enough.
On the threshold by which I stand
I refuse to criticize the absence of extreme.
On the threshold by which I stand…
Sometimes I can’t
and I encourage the bravery of such limitations.
For I honor the threshold by which I have come to stand upon.
I trust that it is for me
And from it, I shall not be moved.
And when it’s time,
wend me into the solstice of winter.
Usher me into new territory.
There I will proclaim what is mine.
Start once more.
Trust what is for me –
That I am equipped to hold it.
SELAH
Miss Parisia B.

A Psalm of Undying Love

I urge myself to give the victory of my soul over to you,
To acknowledge you as the defender of my heart,
The champion of all my affections.
For though life slips through my fingers
You’re what I’m able to hold onto,
The only power that belongs to me.
Oh, how I belong to you.
In the deep meadow of my spirit lies an expanse,
There I will unfurl with you.
Let the relic of my form welcome divine healing.
Shine your light upon me,
Kiss me whole again,
Restore what’s always belonged to me.
You belong to me –
You’re the only thing I belong to.
You’ve carried my aching bones
As the architect of my design,
The exuberance of my soul.
Anywhere I search, I can find you.
Your abiding presence echos through and through creation,
I am your creation
And you are my God.
Lord, I worship you.
I use my body as a vessel for you,
I’m giving everything back to you
(All I thought I could control).
I am not God, nor do I deserve to be.
But I deserve you –
your grace, your expectance,
Call me –
I want to hear you say my name,
I want to remember heaven with you
(To recall my divinity).
So when the water is still,
When I’ve attached myself to no one but you,
When my heart is burdened with traces of fear
Yet my ears opened
And my hands raised,
When my gaze is fixed solely on the reflection of the forest,
There I sit on holy ground
Because you crave me
And I have saved my deepest love for you.

Burnt eyes and restored vision

Bereft of all your comforts
You’ve caviled every last ember
Ardent enough to survive.

Every burden bound to your bosom
Diffuses throughout the sky
Muddled with ash and mist.
You aren’t who you thought you would be.

Your knees
This alter
Convoluted with the other.

It’s lonely here, only
Cracks and their companions.
I’m exposed out here, exposing the
Crumbled path crusted to my bare feet.
There are no answers here,
Just ghosts of lost love.

Touched by sickness, swaddled in despair
Kissed by broken covenants, wrapped in bondage
Stained by magnetism, veiled in deleterious desire
Punctured by kin, seeping in darkness
Lifted by scarcity, dragged by deceit
Punished by my boon, tied to immunity
Perceived as perfection, sheathed in avenge.

You’ve planted seeds
Not designed for your soil.
Walked among trees
Not meant for your forest.

May the clarity of these burnt offerings
Resurrect truth.
May the fragility of timber
(Once erect and unfruitful,
Budding and immovable)
Restore you.
May it coat your skin (these ashes) with
An analgesic stain.

Reminding you that you’ve never been
The sum total of pain
imposed on you.

This alter belongs to you,
that story doesn’t.

Gather your chalked past
Black and eager to scatter.
Breathe in the smoke,
Suffocate the traces of pain you’re tempted to rekindle.

Ask forgiveness
Receive benediction
Dip your pin
End the cycle.