I love you is now meaningless.

I trust you means everything.

And I do.

Have you lingered long enough,
Lived a life and done some stuff,
Do you fear your last few thoughts
The holy sound of nots and naughts.

Let me set your mind at ease,
There will be no one left to please,
Close your eyes and shepherd home,
Death is but your final poem.

We measure love as we receive it,
A smile, a kiss, something that pleases.

We never tally love as given,
A gift we give with no red ribbon.

I have learned so little in so long,
But when love's shared, it makes us strong.

Sadness in the ink of night,
Memories restless soon take flight,
Night time is my darkest joy,
Time is just  a tic tok ploy.

Dreams that linger, friendships gone,
Carefree days had smiles and song.
I've lived a life that makes me think,
And now I sleep close to the brink.

I will not try harder.
Anymore.

This is me.

I will no longer improve,
Or promise to do better

This is me.

I will not kneel to a god,
Or bow to an idea,
Or cower in the shadow of the ordained.
No. Never.

This is me

I will not beg for love,
Or cry for forgiveness.
Or apologize for my thoughts.

This is me.

I'm the best that I can be.
And I'm ok with that.

This is me

Trauma isn't memories.

It's the inability to turn things into memory.

What hurt's us most.

Lingers.

When you suggested we play hide and seek,
I did not realize you were talking about your emotions.