Entitlement

Entitlement

God Is not in the business of forgetting me.
It seems, no matter how loudly I shout my lines from the stage
And no matter how much vibrato-y fibers of song pass through my lips and fill the air with swirling melodies
There are still so many who glance my way from beneath eyes far less painted than mine
And notice how my hands are empty
And there is no one at my side.
And in this semi-Petrarchan love,
Where I, the woman, am caught in Sidney’s woes, for I
I would sever my own dreams for the furtherance of yours -
Alone and lonely in the understanding that not only are my affections for someone I cannot have and should not, as well
I shudder.
If music be the food of love, then your ears must be still, for I swear you can’t see anything I do.
But God Is not in the business of forgetting me.
It is here, with those whisper-fingers clenching my soul and wringing out the blood in my veins –
These times, when I yearn to break the skin that holds together the shell of the woman who admires you
When I desire to see if there is any crimson life within me (or have they drained it all?)
I remember that Romance is not a Right.
If I picketed the gates of Heaven and demanded to receive what I deserve
My spirit would instantly be broken upon the smolders of Despair.
What part of me believes I am entitled to Love whom I will?
All the Romantic Love I am guaranteed is the great affair of Christ, and
All else is His Choosing.
So I could beat my fists upon the Heart of God, demanding the Love that I believe is my dues –
Or I could realize that all Love is contained in the Son’s bleeding palms and split-oozing side.
I am entitled to nothing.
Love whom I will? – well, I will not
Unless it is He Who commands it, for
I am entitled to nothing.
No scorn, no scorn, no scorn, for I am hardly alone, even when it is Valentine’s day, and nothing red decorates my room (which is a testament, for how easily red could decorate me that day!)
God never promised Romance other than His own, no
And God, He Is not in the business of forgetting me.

The End

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