Strange dances we meet each other midway. Random glances. How do I know you? I think its best I just write what I'm thinking for now. No more poetry, no more empty words or random movements of thoughts. Cycling though my mind you come and go. I don't want this, I don't think. And yet I do. So mistaken by my heart, so many times. I cannot trust what I see. I am so careful, watching, looking, analyzing. What do you want from me? What are the intentions here? What are the thoughts you hide so fervently with gates and chains and dark shadows. That in itself makes my very bones go chill and my heart slow to a crawl. How can I trust you?

If you only knew all the lies, all the trials, all the patience of my past. I am lost by it. How many times do I have to give? Is there any end to this game? Seems there is no end to it. Seems there is no hope through it. I am beside myself in mystery and madness. All of them call me crazy, crazed with passion, maddened by love, diseased by lies, insane from trying, tired from dreaming, listless from pleading, wounded by forgiveness, empty from the pain.

How can I ever love you? I don't see the healing in this day, or in any other day. People say healing comes in time, comes by night, comes with sleep, comes from isolation, comes in thought, comes through forgiveness, comes by way of self-reflection. In my years, never have I seen healing come in these forms. I know many who still look back on love and dread it, or beg for it to return. Poor souls who can never move on; Entire lifetimes later and still plagued by pain.

Never in my life have I seen healing from the night, for it is dark, lonely and unforgiving. The tears you pour into your pillow provide no solitude, they do not wrap their arms around you…they do not love you.

Never have I witnessed sleep to treat sadness, it is usually the result and in the worst of times can even be an unending path.

I cannot remember ever watching someone heal in isolation, time to think, reflect, work through the issues, ah yes that is what they say, but the words begin to warp, transform, they create a history that never truly existed for the purpose of easing the wounded into a place that somehow allows them to move past their pain, and yet they never truly heal – in silence they just accept the lies as their reality.

Never has thought been anything but deviant to the wounded heart, it serves as both ally and enemy, one strike to protect and yet bearing its mark upon the thinker. Thoughts are not healers, they are mysteries and tricksters; deviants of the wounded mind to retreat and elaborate, to over simplify or over analyze for the sake of survival. Thoughts, are fine when the one involved is unaffected by the passions of their heart, but where there is pain, untainted thought does not exist.

Perhaps some healing comes from forgiveness, but only a small portion of the scarring is repaired, for wherever there is forgiveness, there is always remembrance, that part which is forgiven but not forgotten. Only so much healing can result in this. Like a limb that is removed to save the body, and yet you are still forever incomplete.

Self-reflection, a moment to look back on the past, allows the bleeding heart to realize why it has been seared and scarred and while there is some healing in understanding that, it can never fully remove the pain of what has occurred.

For all my disseminations on healing, one would ask "what then would you say can heal if all these things cannot, what then can cause another to feel, to risk, to trust, to move beyond the memories to create new ones and shed their skin to forever escape their scars?"

I would venture to say that love is the only thing that can truly heal you. It is never the night, or sleep, time or isolation, nor thought or reflection, not even forgiveness. It's the nature of man to survive; moving on does not mean we are healed, moving on means we can survive. Moving on means trying to love again even if we limp across the finish line. By no means be fooled by the broken who say time will heal all wounds, for over time they may no longer feel the scars they still bare, but that does not mean they are not there. It is the gentle acceptance of the next soul you meet that can transform you, can love you and let you heal. Love is the only thing that heals the heart; it is the only power that can lift that veil, but you must survive, you must want to heal, you must limp on, try again… and not give up – else be forever lost.