staring at the proffesor perched upon her stool, I continued to hold her gaze. the question was repeated again, "what is sex?"...

My thoughts scattered like a flock of teens flying from the police when caught drinking their precious delacies. "...where is the line?" How do we define the act that many seem to find themselves entwined? My sea of black seeped out from the back, the bad-lands, marked with a sign- welcome to your past. In this pool of shadows and blurrs i saw a glow of lights that were once my dreams and fantasies...Funny it now seems that such things have become a disease, a haunting nightmare that will not cease. I am forced to review the time I once spent with you know who, and ask myself, "what is sex?" Where is the line that says your ok this time but beware the scent of death is in the air? Have I already fallen in the pit, blinded by doubt, completely unaware of it? Was it something that I've already commit? Is that why the pain is so great, why i still feel sometimes I'd rather die then see her with that other guy? My bleeding heart is almost dry. My corpse an empty shell. They say sex is not just physical but spiritual as well. When two souls are joined and then they split.. the damage is more than just a loss of spit. "What is sex?" How do we define this thing that was created by the Devine? I have treaded in the unknown waters... Did I drown and not know it? I am no longer comfortable in my automatic response. The pain that was produced... Am I alone in this suffering? Like a sandcastle washed away from the rising sea pleads to live on, the memory of her fills my songs. God how I hate this. There are days I feel I got nothing left, and in those times I call upon the Lord to lead my steps. I am a broken vessel, washed upon a reef of sorrow. The frail trace of support beams holding up my tattered heart is vanishing. The walls crumble and are blown away. Lord how I need you in these days. Fill my lips with songs of praise. Rebuild in this broken place. In this pain I seek your face.

my brokeness