The Organ of Love

Now I see that I didn’t have the organ of love, although I acted and looked alright.

I wasn’t able to say, hey this thing we share is the most special thing in itself, no matter what other people think. I cared exactly what other people thought.

I’ve been thinking about the idea of forgiveness. It’s not saving someone. It’s just that I’ve learned things from the suffering that were necessary. I’m tired of comparing every guy to how much nicer he is than you. I’m tired of comparing how much I love myself to how much you hated me.

I stopped looking for the guy that will love me exactly as much as you hated me, because that love was always bound.

It’s because I started to love myself even more than this, and I think that’s forgiveness.

Look at this arm, look at this chest, see this forgiveness, my organ of love.

It’s knowing I love myself more than the love that lived in the world, more than I wanted him dead. The hate dissolved into the atmosphere like the smoke of a candle going out. In a way it came from love and went back into love. It came from the love he chose for himself, but that is so very small compared to the love I chose for me.

Although there was so much pain,

although you brought me to my knees,

I know no other defence necessary than,

I am.

When he says I’m not strong, my answer is: I am.

When he says I don’t know of love, my answer is: I am love, I am.

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