Do you want to talk?
Still your mouth
holds silence.
When nothing clever
can be said,
when words can’t cut
clean—or cold.
You’ve learned—
it’s safer
to keep it shut—
or keep it sharp,
to hide inside
your own shadow.
Do you want me to breathe?
I don’t need air.
I need space.
I breathe you in—
not your words,
your essence.
Lips on your lips.
It’s not romantic.
I breathe you out—
fill your lungs,
press on your chest,
bringing you back
to yourself.
Do you want to teach me?
First,
teach yourself.
Train your mouth,
your tongue,
on the difficult—
love
freedom
sorry
unconditional
real
Just let them in—
without shaking.
Do you want to meet me?
Speak, don’t explain—
I will be there.
I will stay—
through fire
storm
darkness
stillness
madness.
Am I unfair?
Yes.
But I want you
to forgive that.
Oct 24, 2025
Oct 24, 2025 at 3:06 PM UTC
Do you want to talk?
Still your mouth
holds silence.
When nothing clever
can be said,
when words can’t cut
clean—or cold.
You’ve learned—
it’s safer
to keep it shut—
or keep it sharp,
to hide inside
your own shadow.
Do you want me to breathe?
I don’t need air.
I need space.
I breathe you in—
not your words,
your essence.
Lips on your lips.
It’s not romantic.
I breathe you out—
fill your lungs,
press on your chest,
bringing you back
to yourself.
Do you want to teach me?
First,
teach yourself.
Train your mouth,
your tongue,
on the difficult—
love
freedom
sorry
unconditional
real
Just let them in—
without shaking.
Do you want to meet me?
Speak, don’t explain—
I will be there.
I will stay—
through fire
storm
darkness
stillness
madness.
Am I unfair?
Yes.
But I want you
to forgive that.
I have a more condensed and controlled version of this. I was thinking a lot about what is better, being in control or being messy a bit... Messy feels real, control feels reverent or sometimes even reckless. I use em dash... not because GPT but because I love to let my poems breathe and I want You to feel how I feel when I say it out loud.
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