Aching Vessel

Here I stand, trying to hold together borders that are about to give way - a vessel so full of love and affection, about to explode.

Not sure if I can contain it - oozing from every orifice of my body. I only want to share all this emotion with one to whom I can prove my devotion.

So fed up with giving love that's left unnoticed and frustrated with wasted energy that never is reciprocated.

So what am I do with this? Some say that my desire defies nature's demand that I find my borrowed rib in the womb of a woman. But my longing transcends the physical yearnings for satisfaction.

I want to be happy - an obscure feeling, both subjective and illusive - carrying with it unmeasurable costs, and I am willing to pay.

And if fate sees fit to leave me here standing, I give this heart of mine - useless and empty to be taken from me. Taken so that I have not to feel this vacancy scratching and tearing, thrashing and mutilating this aching vessel.

By Andrew J. Dorsey
February 2, 2010 - 4:27 p.m.

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