22 may

when people leave, they get lopped out of you, like organs. i wonder how much lopping can a human endure? lopped off clean, all those little roots we worked so hard to web together, and i bleeding uselessly all over them. the gaps grow back, but there's that sometimes-ache of the dead bits that now and then make themselves known. blood, blood and always blood: why is every imagery of blood, of being lopped into bits? is this really all we know? there is so much joy and i speak of being lopped to bits. but you made me who i am, every one of you, and take chunks of muscle with you when you go.

there is trouble, there is always trouble; but there is peace. it is no deadener of madness-- rather its deliverer. in contentedness madness can be beautiful. i can even watch myself be lopped into bits with a strange content serenity, for i have a Father who lives just to sew up the lopped off bits. and he takes care of the dangerous incorrigibleness which is my savior and my vice. how muddled we've made things; how terribly irrevocably muddled.