Here is an offer,
a request to be a lover,
make my love prose longer,
add structure till it's form differ,
once a poem to a novel full of laughter.

Were I as gifted as most
I would pull from the earth its very heart
As the rivers of its core washed over my feet
With its blood, I'd deem it modern art
Some gifted charlatan of beauty and grace
I'd burn all others work and praise
So it's of dietic thanks and situational applaud
That I never learned to take what I need to stand tall...

Love is not a desire to contain
Or possess.
Love is a desire to set free.
To help someone see themselves
The way you see them.
To see someone become
The truest representation
Of themselves.
To want happiness and contentment for them.
Love in its truest, rawest, and most beautiful form
Desires these things
With no regard for self.

Sometimes the words I don't say
Carry the most weight
And that's fine
Because if I'm carrying the weight
Then you don't have to.