Once I hated you
when you told me what to do,
but the English language
is always either passive
or aggressive,
and I know you only meant well.

Can you forgive me
for hating you
every time you breathed the words with ease
that strangle my own throat;
that I can barely say?

I'm sorry for all the times
I'd rather be you than me,
thinking wrongly
that your life was easier;
But it's only different.
I know that now.

This isn't what I expected from closeness.
That each new piece of you
would make me feel worse about myself.
It's not because of you,
but because of my perception.
It’s collapsing with my life.

So please let me know
when I become too much to hold,
when your arms start to ache,
or when this **** just starts to get old.
I'll leave with no trouble,
Because under all this,
I do love you.


-e.r.n.