A Crisis Of Faith

"You're (were) a crisis of my faith."

                                         

                                        ~Taylor Swift

There have been times, I have beaten down to death the wounds I have been given. 

There have been times, I have bartered my soul for a curse. 

There have been times, I have begged the devil for it.  

But, in all those times I have been dying I have never forgotten to float on the powdery dust creeping inside my room from a window I have forced to be shut forever. 

I have believed that I would last. 

I have believed that my two legs can run far and wide.

I have believed that the surrender I practice is not in vain. 

The hurt I endured was never spread.

The hurt I endured had to be ended from within me. 

I trusted my bones, my skin, 

my heart for it. 

No one else's before I do that.

Then you came to show me that the beach sand is just dust flying over heat islands. 

Then you came to show me that my dreams betray reality so damn good that I might be an illusion of some sort.

And, here I am counting each and every  grain of beach sand that touches my lover's feet.

And, here I am making my lover believe that lost love can be found again.  

And, sometimes, sometimes, when I cup his face between my two little hands,

My reality often becomes a dream that betrays no one.