A Vow.

I will keep your heart.
..because I want you..
I will seize your moments of doubt and fill them with praise.
..because you are important..
I will soften the blows and calm the skies.
..because your peace is my peace..
I will forget our mistakes and relish kindness.
..because swimming is better than sinking..
I will mend your clothes, bad dreams, and wounds.
I will love you and yours.
I will nourish our bodies and souls with the remedies I know.
..because pumpkin pancakes make everyone smile..
I will feed our minds and spirits with Word from above.
..because I know the plans He has for us..
I will cover you in prayer and angels until protection is yours.
..because, like hope, I believe in you..
I will help you find boldness in shadow and strength in dark days.
I will love you and yours.
I will squeeze you tight and whisper funny things.
I will fluff your pillow and iron out all the details.
I will remember your birthday and big days and bad days.
..I will mend you..
I will keep your heart so close to mine that one will not be distinguishable from the other.
..because I need you..

Seven is Steven without the T.

Seven is complete. Seventh Heaven. Seven Dwarfs. Serven. Seeven. Sehhven. Sewwwwwww. I'll just consider my seven month slack - whole; therefore giving me divine excuse. I don't have much to binge. Eh.. not totally true. I say so much in my head. I spit and stutter. I stand for awkward minutes in the frozen food aisle trying to decide "healthy vs. spicy boneless chicken wings". If there aren't any judging glances I go with the TGIF appetizer special! If I am surrounded by evil I choose the escape shuffle to the wine aisle, select the best Malbec for a TGIF special, glance around the corner, and return to said aisle for Happ-i-Tizer pick-up!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuSPC-Ja6nM

“Suspense is worse than disappointment.” Robert Burns

I would never describe myself as depressed. However, I do have a tendency towards self withdrawal. At times I am unable to slide through disappointments and concerns in order to act cheerfully or participate in the joy of others. Mostly this selfish behavior is targeted or not targeted at my friends and family. It's not my normal behavior. During these gloomy episodes, I can step out of self and see my wretched demeanor but have no desire to do anything about it. I think I want to be alone, but when I am, I no longer feel that way. I have narrowed this personal phenomenon down to when I have been disappointed in, hurt by, or frustrated with those closest to me. Everyone gets the grey fury. I have to change. It's not fair to me. Or them.

Best paired with Pina Colada - Two Straws

My letter writing skills are far less advanced than the imagery and focus of great poetry, but I guess that comes from a traditional expectation of being feverishly honest or more typically romantic and pink.

I am neither.

I cannot brutally tell the truth because I do not like the way it sounds in my head. If I tend to exacerbate my emotions into themes it is best assumed the guitar solo will carry you away into my fantasy.

However, in the midst of this truth, beauty, freedom, and love: I write.

To you.

It wouldn't be fair to compare you to anything less than a force of nature. The kind of force an artful brunette, flushed from early morning's arduous love-making, cannot predict with what appears to be Elvis burnt into her pancakes. Her trailer parked visions of the Holy Madonna are no match for you.

You, strong and unpredictable as a tornado. Uncertain and damaging as hail.

You sweep through backyards carrying hot coals and cold beers - always covering your tracks.

Most of my evenings are spent watching for you in the sky. Scoping the horizon for an ominous cloud signaling your arrival. In any other daydream this cloud might bring doom and destruction, but these lazy summer days welcome the fresh wind and thunder loving.

My skin tingles, you blow through my hair, and I smile.

The judge who will be sentencing us today just found out the dance studio where his wife has been taking tango lessons for the past year has been closed for eight months. Last known instructor goes by the name Juan, prefers fuzzy navels, neon lights, and blondes.

"Two hundred miles!" He bangs his gavel. "Round trip." There is nothing to do but serve our time, and hope we'll get off. On good behavior. The sweat on his brow smells like cheap whiskey and reminds me of past time served. The restraints are all too familiar and I refuse to be led down that cold fluorescent hallway again.

I will be the file in your cake.

The tattoo of hidden duct work in your prison walls.

Be my look out.

My bribed guard.

My shadow and perfectly planned opportunity.

Break me out.

Follow me to the water's edge and disappear with me from sight and smell.

Resurface with me on the shores of Mexico.

We'll blend.

We'll toast.

To the moon and our enigmatic existence.

You made the full moon linger just for me ~ do that with your kisses please!

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I want to be your sanctuary. Not your priest.

I am a heap.

If I am honest - I want you without all your mess.