Whatever You Think

I’m such a mess
Can you believe it?
It’s true
You might not have known that
Or, maybe you knew

Maybe you figured it out
Right away
Perhaps that’s the reason
You saw me that way
Not an A, but a C
A C-minus at that
I suppose you were right
I suppose I am

I suppose I’m barely
A seven or eight
I might just agree
I’m not that great

But my heart is earnest
My motives are true
Whatever you think of me
I’m always for you

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Perfect Love

An act of love prompted by guilt isn’t really love at all. It’s selfishness, to ease the guilt we’re experiencing.

But real love isn’t selfish. It’s selfless, putting the well-being of the other person ahead of our own feelings or well-being. This cannot be accomplished through guilt, because of the way guilt-based motives are inherently self-focused; meaning, the focus of this “act of love” inevitably becomes us, ourselves, instead of the the person we’re supposed to be helping/loving.

Love also can’t be accomplished through fear. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.Black and White Graph

Into Pieces

This is my heart

As it tears into pieces

All of my strength

All of my weakness

All that I’ve left

And all that’s behind

Is missing and mangled

And tangled inside

Everything’s broken

Yet everything’s whole

Things that I feel

That you’ll never know

A heartache so sweet

And I don’t have a reason

But this is my heart

As it tears into pieces