INVICTUS INDOMITUS

I’m struggling to sit here and think about our conversation last night, I feel the campfire still burning embers around my encircled heart, and nothing to relieve me or rescue me from the heat, not even for a moment.

I want to crawl beneath this love sick desire, to hide under the sheets of  ”I am still my own.”

The thought is tormenting me:

Of not being my own. Not being ”invictus indomitus” (The wild unconquerable (one) ...

It is as though [through my eyes] the jaws of ”lovers jealousy’s” are snapping wide to grasp me again.

I’m pulling you in close for a whisper

I am shaking you awake!

I’m telling you a secret too deep

and to keep this alive

Can we draw a truce to this fight over lover affairs before it begins?

Can we find similar channels to talk and swim together?

Last night’s fire was edging on a lovesick lovers fiery

And I terror at the thought of not surviving the heat

too much of any good thing is not good

Sweet kisses to my sweet noble lover, be gentle and I will not run,

but I fear the collar that you’ve fashioned

was meant for the house pet,

I am not.

The bridle is not for the mustang.

I Love as I desire. And rest as I desire. This is what makes me beautiful… and once captured… I become tame [Tame: lacking spirit, zest. interest, or the capacity to excite] and lose the very ‘being’ that first drew you to me.

I know myself. And I am showing you the headstones of ALL my fool hearted lovers.

Fools! Silly Fools!

They thought my freedom was only a token

And my need for self definition, only a lark

That is when they pulled off the butterflies wings and expected the thrill of a flutter.

They saddled the stallion, then raged as they sat upon the beast.

I am ”Invictus Indomitus”

And I feed from the hand, not from the trough.

To capture me is to kill me.

To PRETEND you have captured my essence, is to corral me into finite space and suffer me deep with shallow definition.

So offer your hand— even in fear— so that I can fill it with every good thing, my love, Every good thing which you’ve NEVER KNOWN

You cannot grasp what is not of flesh, and

I find myself in the same position

So I offer my hand, trembling, to be filled with every loving possibility from your soul.

 Let me spill to you, now, how I see you!

I am a broken spigot of words today, and I wish to fill you with all that I have-

So that in the future, you can rest with these words:

You are fastly becoming my centerpiece at my own cornucopia table [of Love]

and I laugh as I see you turn round and round

sword drawn, slashing through the air.

a show of strength, more for me than for you

at the rivals which are not, but to you- must never be[come].

Loving your little jealousy’s is my fault

Having your little jealousy’s is yours

This is not bad, nor boasting evil— just frightened and too small

for a noble person such as yourself

Let’s make an agreement together, lets join hands and walk the same way- No warrants, no suspicious accusations posing as concern…

[Warrant: A guarantee: a written assurance that some product or service will be provided or will meet certain specifications] Just love, childlike and guileless.

We get afraid, for sure but we have the others hands! Fear is not bad! Fear is fear— So let us run it down together!

With bold speech and lavishing tongues

speaking love against the dark, the cold in each of us,

lighting the fire of hope and fierce bravado— to brighten and warm our hearts as one.

It is by its nature- self made illusion.

We all become frightened by our perspectives! We’re NOT bad! It is our eyes , [perspectives] which are ONLY deceitful.

When I awake to my illusion

hy waste any more moments in the guilty pleasure of self-punishment?

We are only small handicapped children-

blindly groping for our mother- Love.

to be pitied, and embraced

We should not slap the hand for reaching!

What am I afraid of?

I’m scared that I am still too weak to fight off the tethers of a strong lovesick lover—

too soon appraising my wildness

As if my beauty could be enhanced by its own (domesticated) demise.

Death by the hand of many blinded  [frightened] lovesick lovers

Fools they were

and I with them.

But hear me out when I say

I have never made a confession so raw with such intent

to any lover until now

but I never desired so much to save them

from their own jealous Achilles heel

as I desire for you now

…I’m pressing my hand down over your heart

And I can feel you reach for the bridle.

This is not a ride you want to take with me

but [you] don’t know it…

not yet and (HOPEFULLY) not ever

so I plead only for your attention, when I ask of you

“No”

[and]

”It’s okay, I won’t wonder.”

Published by J.J.Celli

JJCelli has been expressing herself through writing most her life. She holds two BA degrees and a MA degree in Forensic Psychology. Celli enjoys challenging herself intellectually and physically and lives a life of health and fitness. Celli is a survivor of childhood trauma as well as a survivor of intimate partner violence/gun violence. After recovering she became an advocate and speaker on intimate partner violence in the LGBTQ+ community. JJCelli is working on developing her forthcoming book of poetry titled "Love Letters and Pocket Knives" to be released soon.

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