I used to think the bravest man
was he who had nothing to lose--
for he, though lost, was wild,
strong, and unyielding.
But then, you made me a man
with everything to lose in you.
So I was scared,
because you made me weak--
weak in the knees, and tired
of heart. You wearied the creatures
in the pit of my stomach,
because they were in uproar
at the slightest thought of you
(And I surely know I flooded
them with thoughts of you).
(In the deepest of deep
in my chest, I knew)
I had everything to lose,
when I was with you.
It scared me
that in the brightest memory
of the brightest day, you were there--
that in the darkest pit of my heart,
you resided, as well--
that you made me weak,
and there was no escape from you.
You scared me
in the way that I am a pebble on the tracks
and you, an oncoming train.
You scared me
in the way that I am driftwood afloat,
and you, an encroaching tidal wave.
I was scared,
because I had fallen into your heart,
and it had swallowed me whole.
So I closed my heart to you;
I shut the doors with lock and key--
a mistake, I surely realize.
So now I open my heart to you;
I claw at the walls that kept you away,
for you do not make me afraid,
and you do not make me weak.
And now, I know the bravest man
is one with everything to lose--
for he, though vulnerable, will
fight to keep his world intact,
and my world, my true, is you.