Heart Attacking

I've made this a conscious effort.
Unlike'
the past.

But I have a nose for heart ache.

My sweat is largely vulnerable
to such novelty of confession.
But marco...
yes - Marco.

You very well know that when Jesus listens.

And in this arena between thought and a -
pardox.

The man in you.
Met me.

Perhaps another idea of not backing down.
Or -
perhaps another idea of failure to present my true
feelings.

What I truly feel - is the thought of how passionate
I have been blessed with.

Do I have any idea of losing control over emotions;
the battle of crying like a boy for who I have no candy.

No candy for you little boy. What are you. Crying.

Marco doesn't cry like that anymore. A man of few.

There's a fork in the road
that I followed to get here again.

Tanya.

No longer a victim.
I refuse to answer.

And I feel it in me.

The answer: is to survive.
No loss prevention.

Now I hear my ego talking back.
The answer(s) I used to give.
You're not worth it, marco.
Marco, you'll never be good enough.
Stop trying so hard.

Tonight I instead participate in the ruins of
my emotions set free.

God willing, the height of my emotions.

Joy.

Marco.

Amen -

P.S. The scent of a flower implodes all sensibility I have.
Remembering to act anonymous.