And if you call me at 4 am, too sad to even say hello, I will listen to your silence until you fall asleep. If you need to cry I will not wipe your tears away because you are only human and sometimes tears are as close to laughter as you can get and that’s okay. If you get sleepy I will let you drool on my arm and I won’t laugh at you if you snore too loud. If you need to yell so hard that your voice cracks and your knees fail I will hold you up and yell with you. If you get so angry you punch your hands red I will ice your knuckles and tell you that wounds heal both inside and out, and just like the cold that is harsh and burning, I will always be the warmth to soothe you and make you feel better. I will love you.
You were there at that damn party and the proximity of your skin was intoxicating. We haven’t touched in years but I’m still hypnotized by your hands. I am beginning to think we aren’t whole anymore, that we are just two halves trying to ignore the fact that we will only ever fit each other. You tried to drown me in bottles and I tried to drown you in lakes. Forgetting is hard when you give your promises to the sky. They are written there in constellation language and I cannot look up without thinking about how the moonlight tasted on the corner of your mouth. There are still stars on the tip of my tongue. They say it takes 21 days to form a habit, but we have made a life of this. It’s been years and winter still makes me think of snowflakes melting on your skin. It’s been years and I still can’t meet your eyes without being afraid I might never look away. It’s been years and I am still here writing poems for you. I don’t think I will ever stop.