Love/Hate

There is a fine line
I have to tread
Between a world of life
At that of the dead
The love is there
To make me feel
The hate is there
To make me real
Yet I find my steps
Are seldom sure
They teeter totter
With each lure
The push and pull
The constant tug
It takes it's toll
The thorns are dug
But seldom is
The answer found
Elsewhere than on
Sacred ground
So when the earth
Is seeming dim
I take a breath
And follow Him

I thought

I thought I was in love once.

The boy told me he loved me. But he also told me I would be better if I was just a little different. I needed to be like this, or do this. Then I would be really lovable.

He didn't love me. He wanted to change me.

I thought I was in love a second time.

I could never believe the boy loved me. He would never truly admit he cared. I beat myself black and blue to make sure I did all I could to be loveable.

I didn't love me. I wanted to change me.