Pure As Soil

In a book, whose title I don't remember, by L. Alcott I once read about a boy who became famous with the help of the devil by publishing a book of poems. But the devil told him his poems of love were incomplete. It was obvious he had never been in love. These are my desperate attempts at capturing the terrible, beautiful, devastating thing that is letting someone in your heart.

Love and Truth

Dread underlies my love,
Because I am afraid.
Place a dam inside,
Blocking off my heart,
The flood overtakes it all.

And I know
Hurt will swim
And I will bleed

There is not a barricade
Not even denial
That will be able to stop
This awful pain of trust

So I love you.
And I wait for devastation.