Beautiful Darkness – A Love Story

Beautiful DarknessIf I open my chest,
Reaching in with trembling hands,
And if I gave you my heart.

Would you see the beautiful darkness that makes me who I am?

Trusting in your answers to my unspoken questions;

Would you hold it gently?
Would you hold it intimately?
Would you hold it carefully?

And when my breath fades;
Would you let me go,
Alone into the alone?

Will you remember the beautiful darkness that made me who I was?

You are and always will be;

That single spark,
Brilliantly illuminating the black,
Of my brokenness.

Finding you shows;
The only reasons why I believe,
My heart answers.

We fit together like;
Interlinking puzzle pieces we are,
Of dark and light.

You see the beautiful darkness
that makes me who I am.

My strong comfort;
You’re everything I need,
What I hope to be.

Your light shines;
Into the darkness of my heart and soul,
Making me a better man.

You have a beautiful darkness
that makes me who I am.

~Mark Schutter ©2015

To honor my lovely wife, Carri to celebrate her birthday and my love for her, I wrote the poem above.  She knows my darkness and I know hers; and together our union has created a beautiful darkness where we both rest comfortably knowing that we complement each other.  Our light illuminates the others darkness!  Happy Birthday my love!



reaching out, desperate
surrounded but feeling left out
again alone and cold
into the shadows
begins the drift

my strength, forgotten
like a faded pair of blue jeans
waded up and tossed
into a corner
on the floor

walking away, forsaken
thinking no one can really see
slipping and falling down
dark tortured abyss
into my mind

lonely days, hopeless
chained locked up and caged
the bars and walls
easily built around
my bleeding heart

~Mark Schutter ©2014wpid-image_14.jpg

Poem #20 of 31 for October Poetry Writing Month or #OctPoWriMo.  The prompt from the OctPoWriMo 2014 website was to write about forgetting something or being late and the stress and anxiety of that.  This is what I was able to come up with.  Not really about being late or forgetting something but the pain of being forgotten.  ~M