how do you bear to think of me?
To say often
betrays what a powerful man you are.
Your words propel me into spacelessness.
awe, wonder.
where there is no stream of thought with any quality enough to provide an explanation.
You--think of me?
What world do you live in, I ask myself?
Where I present anything at all worth a second of your precious mind, time?
How you embrace me--
it almost hurts.
it definitely hurts.
because to be who you see when you look at me--
I feel is a practical impossibility.
You scare me to death on the side of greatness.
I fear all I've done to thank you for this is fall.
For where else can I go from such an insurmountable high?
Where you offer warmth, intensity, and care,
I run.
What can your thoughts do for one as ungrateful and irresponsible as I am?
And yet to refuse you -- to turn away
Here lies the treasure box of all pain.
I could never deny what I know as your gifts (nor fathom those yet unexperienced)
but how I can accept them knowing I will simply abuse them?
what promise can I make that I have not already broken a thousand times?
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