Phaedrus II complete

Just finished Phaedrus II

Prenup

These were my wedding vows that I wrote and recited. I think they are a good universal prenup.
Do you love me?
(A prenuptial agreement)
Give me space to move
Let me be selfish a few times
Help me find myself
Show me something new every day
Let me love you
Let me have a bad habit
Ask me how I feel
Tell me how you feel
Be there most of the time
Help me find beauty in the world
Give me a reason to live
Give me a reason to die
Take me to a new place
Let me be emotional
Allow my insecurities to surface
Show me that "we" matter, not "they"
Snuggle and hold me
Know when to say no
Push me over cliffs of challenge
Catch me if I fall
Be my best friend
Sign on the dotted line
..............................................
If you love me

The Reflection

Reflections of someone I don't know
He looks familiar, tired, worn
Others who meet him
Don't see the reflections they used to see
They see him only as he is
He knows it's pointless to speak
To the reflection
The reflection speaks for itself
And knows it's weaknesses
The reflection could change
But not easily
He would have to leave the reflection
And hope that when he saw it again
It would be better, clearer, more familiar
He would have to have hope
That the reflection was strong
Strong enough to come back
To be there when he looked

The Sage

The demons masked in their seclusion
Awakened by the familiar call to haunt.
Dancing through his present plight,
A memorial dance of his contamination.
He accepts the tribute without protest,
Glaring at them, with nostalgic discontent
They glare back like self-anointed oracles
As to say, we are you, and you, our sage.
He collapses feeling the burden of truth.
The demons sulk back to their caverns
And await the familiar call to haunt.

Hell's Palm

The place of hell's palm creases leaving the crevice where he dwells.
The breadth of a tic has he, the strength borrowed from others.
He feels the decaying defecation filling his unhallowed flesh.
Hell hath no equal fury to that hell he is self inflicting.
His life, a perpetually swelling lie, tumors mimicking his soul.
He feels the cancer, its' reality, its' presence encroaching as it's fed.
His fear overwhelming, yet ignored will swallow him whole in an instant.
As the place of hell's palm tightens its merciless grasp.

Map of the Heart

Time carves craters in my heart, leaving deep and dark the abyss of knowing and comprehending the passion and pleasure of love.

Left before me on the mountain tops are cold and brittle reminders, perfectly mummified, plainly visible recollections of doors slammed, love lost.

Dusty and worn, the map of the heart kept in mothball trunk under lock,as three dimensional as the Pieta but with markings of chisel and hammer.

Who or what will intervene with finishing tools and key in handto take the unfinished and worn piece to make beauty from the deluge.