*Who else would listen,
But* you?
You take every inch of self-blasphemy and agony I have to offer
You hear every half muttered feeling
Every cut
I only used the blood to tell you what I thought
Our love was one most often found and subsequently lost in childhood
Before the sunset of adolescence brings dark into the world
And in its depths
We realize how small we are
How far we are from places that feel safe
Our love was a shield against that
I could tell you my secrets and you'd shine brightly, make the world small again, if but for a while
It was you I stayed up all night to talk to
Underneath the covers with a flashlight and a pen and YOU.
God, you.
You listened to every insignificant detail of who I was and in your foggy dialect made me feel vindicated
You've always been,
And as long as you have, I've loved you.
Dear Poetry, my God, have I loved You
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
*Who else would listen,
But* you?
You take every inch of self-blasphemy and agony I have to offer
You hear every half muttered feeling
Every cut
I only used the blood to tell you what I thought
Our love was one most often found and subsequently lost in childhood
Before the sunset of adolescence brings dark into the world
And in its depths
We realize how small we are
How far we are from places that feel safe
Our love was a shield against that
I could tell you my secrets and you'd shine brightly, make the world small again, if but for a while
It was you I stayed up all night to talk to
Underneath the covers with a flashlight and a pen and YOU.
God, you.
You listened to every insignificant detail of who I was and in your foggy dialect made me feel vindicated
You've always been,
And as long as you have, I've loved you.
Dear Poetry, my God, have I loved You
