Faith is accepting what makes no sense, what we cannot prove, but know down deep in our souls is real.

I can let my true self shine in front of God.

I know it makes sense for me and him to just break up now and just live our seperate lives and not have to worry about missing each other all the time. But when I think about that, I get sick. Physically sick. Like I seriously throw up. I need to be with him, even if I can’t, like, be with him.

The tales we tell ourselves about ourselves makes us who we are.

Words can be used as a bomb or balm.

chromosomal dance oh, heavenly happenstance rare creation, you -Marcus (Poetry Spam #22)

You called me a natural con artist and asked me what other secrets I was hiding. I didn't answer because I already knew, in some deep, primal way, what furtive truth you were referring to: That I was destined to fall in love with you.