the curtains in my room are drawn shut, over windows clamped closed to keep out the sun, the wind, the prying eyes of my neighbours.
but most of all, i keep my room concealed out of shame, in a vain attempt to hide from God and build myself a chamber that is free from the guilt i suffer every night as i click off the lights. only He knows. only He understands a broken heart, bound by sin, shackled by temptation.
my broken heart.
i’m outside, looking in. teased by the thought. sobered by reality. tempted by the lies. held down by the truth. i’m outside, looking in. reaching in, standing outside.
it has been said that they’re obvious. well, they’re obvious alright…
obviously not interested.
i would rather cross my arms and arm myself with a look of bemusement, make mildly sarcastic remarks about everything you say and refuse to look you in the eye. i would rather do all that than to laugh and allow myself to enjoy your presence.
jealous me, i could never live with the knowledge that you belong to no one but Him and i’d have to share you with the others who do laugh and enjoy you openly.
i would rather convey a subtle hostility towards you than wish i didn’t have to. you already give so much of yourself to so many people. it wouldn’t hurt you to not give anything to me and it doesn’t hurt me to not receive. i would rather not, anyway.
stop fighting, go home. stop crying, pray. remember who, not why. go home.