if somebody asks you,
“who are you?”

here’s what you should say;

that you’re a god who swaps faces
more than the moon changes its phases.

that you’re a different person than who you were,
yet you’re the same person you always were.

that you’re a mess that contradicts itself,
that you’re a puzzle yet a piece of something else.

that you’re the rise and fall of empires,
that you’re a phoenix without its fires.

if you ask yourself,
“who am i?”

here’s what you do know:

you are you.

drape me in silk and dip me in gasoline and slap me with a flame and let me burn brighter and hotter than ever before.

(then put me down, will you? **** me when i get too much of a wildfire for you to control.)

it’s really late and you look annoyed at being awoken at such an early late hour but you also look so soft and small? and yeah, i’m freezing but i’m suddenly warm at the sight of you?

god. i’m sorry. honestly. scoot over, give me some space. don’t turn around, or we’ll be siding face-to-face. is it okay if i wrap my arms around your waist?

yes. thanks. but now i’m wide awake. your minty shampoo is loud i can almost smell its taste. if i nuzzle my face against your neck, does your breath hitches because my nose is cold or because of something else?

oh. you twist in my arms and turn around. the moonlight brings out the chocolates in your eyes and the soft tilt of your mouth; a sleepy smile. your hands are cold, but i don’t mind when your fingertips trace my face, down to my neck, down to my chest. a trail of what, i don’t know, but you leave it behind. a trail of petals? goosebumps? burns?

and then your mouth is on mine, and it doesn’t taste as devine as i thought it would. it tastes like mint, like your shampoo or toothpaste. your hands are on my face. you’ve got me breathless.

but you’re kissing me goodnight, isn’t that right? you part away with a sigh then turn to face the other side. we’re giggling for a minute, louder than the moonlight, but then you start to fall asleep, and i start to fall in love.

i wish you’d be
half as happy
as you make me

i’m constantly screaming but no one’s looking at me; should i scream louder until my voice is heard or should i stay silent until they notice the change?

i don’t sleep when i’m lying by your side.

not because you cling to me the way you do, or because i feel uncomfortable or unsafe or anything other than solace and ease when i’m with you.

but because how else can i protect you? if i were to sleep, who would lie awake at night and guard you?

you say that you sleep better in my bed, in my arms. that you dream sweeter and your nightmares are lesser.

so i’m telling you; that’s all i want. and if it comes at the cost of a few sleepless nights and tired days, it’s still worth it. you’re still worth it.