Triad

I lost you last night. I’m not sure what is mine to lose anymore,
but I lost you. And it hurt, but not that bad.
It seems your heart has gone from living, vibrant, pumping in my hands
to ash. You’re crumbling and
swirling about with the soft breeze that turns up my
collar. Bones around which our flesh once hung now
pound drums in mourning of all I never could have been.
I hope these are the last,
last bubbles of air escaping as my
hands hold our head under water,
last time I’ll turn in my sleep and turn myself back
over to the suffocating, gasping
last breath of you
and I.

I became a machine of valid
and invalid,
ought
and ought not.
And for naught.
Gears and cogs
gear up to bring down the pendulum
first across my pride, then back into
my soul. Ticking slowly,
stopping not.

Amid this most fruitless wandering I
Find a wasteless way.
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
Sat right down between them.
Choosing neither and hating both.
But furrowed brow and bitten tongue could
Never have made it known
To me that all roads here before lead but to one
Unknown, that all roads here before lead but to
Home.

The pain is in my foot.
My foot is in my shoe.
Therefore, the pain is in my shoe.

Question of the day: What makes God praiseworthy?

I don't have a good answer to this yet. I'm still working on it. I feel like my worldview and faith demand that I have a response to this question. Maybe you could throw in your opinions to help me out? But please do it anonymously so I can play devil's advocate without anything being personal.

I like to bathe in the satisfaction I get from being dissatisfied. It's a warm soak, but the air is always cold against my body when I get out of the tub. It's the tragedy of my life to strive for what is Good only for all the wrong reasons. I keep you at a distance; far enough to function, but close enough to hope that you might see what I become and be bothered by it.

My God, stand back and take a look at the wreck of a man this soul has become, a waste of all he has been given. He holds the inverse of Descartes. "No one shall bring it about that I am something, so long as I think I am nothing".

"Behold! I make all things new." Revelation 21:5