As your apprentice, am I legally bound to learn about love
from you–the master craftsman of desire?
Have I learned enough to make my way in the world
and cut the ties to the network of support
you give. Support that removes the doubts and fears
from my restless imagining
and leaves me free to envision a love
that is strong enough to endure all the many
challenges and setbacks that life weaves into the fabric of our nature.
Am I more than an apprentice? Have I evolved to surpass all that has been shown
and given? Am I not ready, now, for love? For real love that doesn’t harbor excuses or complaint.
A love that understands the words not spoken and releases the guilt of further heartache.
I am ready to move past the learning and failures. Past the rejected attempts for approval.
For I am now beyond you.
I have evolved past obedience and am ready for love that shares beyond the borders of greed and righteousness.
Ready to open my heart to the swelling tide of rapture without regret. Compassion without pity.
I am whole. A renewal of the bitter pieces made complete. And I have you to thank.
My patient and relentless master. The guidepost of my journey. The one who allowed me to fail and rebuild and rediscover
the joy of independence. The pleasure of self-fulfillment and determination.
Could I have risen so far without your steady support in my frailest hours?
I know the answer well. And so I thank you and bid you farewell.
For I am complete. I am whole again and ready to embrace the winds of love and all it’s storms.
Ready for the risks and danger that opening my heart exposes me to.
Waiting, in eager anticipation, of the endless possibilities that now lay before me.
And excited by the untapped potential to journey beyond my safety and discover
along the way
the many facets of love.
By Tessa Saks
Zip my heart shut tight, so it can never be opened again. Never exposed to the rawness of love and
all the encounters that chip away its strength. For I am damaged. In need of repair.
Desperate in my fragility to protect. And preserve
the fragments that remain and
remind me of you.
Of our love. Of all the nights of endless honesty and freedom that somehow dissolved
into a mask of hurt and indifference.
I lost you. In my selfish search for approval I sacrificed the most important
part of who I am. Of what I had been. And silenced the truth that united us beyond our flesh and fantasy.
We were one. We shared a bond that seemed forged for eternity. How was I to know how easy it could be fractured?
How could I know that the wedge of destruction is silent and efficient as it slices apart the memories…
laying them bare when the damage is complete. Beyond repair.
Leaving me with only my regret for comfort. And only my shame for solace.
I miss you more than I loved you. That is the shame of it. I never knew what we had until I felt the stinging of it’s absence.
And despite the years that will fall away into this well of darkness,
I remain. Forever scarred. Seeking reprieve from this miserable heart
that continues to hope
in foolish vanity
that one day
I can find the courage to unzip this heart
and love again.
To Be Romantic or Not To Be
In The Style of Will Shakespeare
To be romantic or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the soul to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous passion,
Or to take arms against a sea of desire,
And by opposing end them?
To think: To control;
To rationalize: And by rationalize to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural desires
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a discipline
Devoutly to be wish’d.
To think, to control;
To control perchance to prevent heartbreak: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that protecting from heartache what love may we miss
When we have resisted opening to the beauty before us.
Must give us pause: there’s the regret of long lost loves
For who would bear the whips and scorns of rejected love,
The risk unbalanced, the outcome failing,
The pangs of unrequited love: None but the romantic.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
Save for the romantic.
The romantic that enterprises of great pith and moment
And in this regard their currents turn awry,
And win in the name of love.
Bt Tessa Saks and Will Shakespeare
In The Style Of
What is a promise?
Is it an absolute? A must do?
Or is it a kinda-sorta type of thing?
I see promises as extensions of our inner souls and as such we must be aware of what we do promise both to ourselves and to others.
For promises are often broken, but not with intent. More often it is with a failure of understanding the scope of the commitment and the ability to live up to it.
I promise myself all kind of little things only to fail.
And in failing, to frustrate myself again and again.
I’ve promised myself to stop swearing. Fail.
I’ve promised myself to be organized. Fail.
I’ve promised myself to stop eating late. Fail.
Instead of punishing myself, I should accept my limitations.
And work to understand why it is so hard for me to keep these vows. Are they even possible?
Where is the disconnect?
Is it in my heart? Do I really mean what I say?
Or am I merely saying what I think I should say, without reference to who I am?
Do I care more about appearances than truth?
Why is it so easy to lie to ourselves? To pretend we are different than we are.
I think it happens when we are afraid to be ourselves.
Afraid to look inside and see what really motivates us and inspires us. Or scares us.
When I look at the promises that are easy to keep “to love, honor and cherish” for example, what makes it easy is when it is unconditional and free.
I allow myself to be true to my heart.
It only becomes challenging when I begin to hold expectations of what others need to do or need to be.
But did my promise have conditions? Did I suddenly rewrite the rules?
Or perhaps I wasn’t clear enough in my pledge?
Maybe promises to others should be clear enough that there is room for amendments.
Or perhaps it is better to not make promises.
But to live in the moment and say “today I love you with all my heart”.
“I want to continue to love you forever.”
“So let’s both do this every day.”
Then in 20 years we can see if it was a promise or merely a dream.
And I hope with every fiber of my being
that our love will prove to be a promise that we kept.
by Tessa Saks
There is a border that keeps love safe. A wall that protects us from pain.
We stand behind it waiting to see when to let down our guard. And when we can trust that expressing how we really feel is safe.
Why are we so afraid to be hurt?
To say how we really feel?
Can it be that we do not trust others?
Or is that we do not trust ourselves?
That somehow, deep within, we are unsure of ourselves and need to hear from someone else first.
Need to know that we aren’t way offside. Or crazy.
That what we feel is shared. And mutual.
Before we open up and make a fool of ourselves
we test the water.
We wait in safety behind the border, for the clear signal.
And then…only then…can we let go and release the pent up feelings. The longings.
Like a force braced for an eternity, the desire explodes from our innermost soul
to free us from the repressed passion that tortured us beyond measure.
With euphoria and joy, we captivate all around us in the pleasure of finally allowing who we are and what we love to be revealed.
And the border that held us in…incarcerated love that could never be revealed. Now, finally freed.
The wonders of being who we really are and loving with fierce devotion, our blessed one.
Our kindred soul.
Our eternal love.
By Tessa Saks
Can I live without love and endure an empty heart?
From nights of empty promises.
Filled with desire and all the pleasure
But far beneath the ecstasy surfaced lies
and untold misery.
I am not what you want.
And despite my best efforts to please you, I still lack so much in your estimation.
I am not perfect. But I believed in perfect love.
I believed in you. In us.
And no matter what you do with your endless hours
without me, know that I forgive.
But I will not forget.
I will remember what was.
And all that was good and pure.
The countless beautiful moments that united us in heart and body.
And kept us strong.
Forever cast away
into the wanton nights of heartache.
Where I wait.
If love will return.
By Tessa Saks
I am so lost
In the black depths
Of the nights of love
That I can no longer tell
Dream from reality
And I pour on it my own tears.