I said that I would black your boots when,
in reality,
I would do so much more.
When I say the things I do.
the terrible words that I see douse the lights in your eyes,
I cannot help it.
They flow from my mouth like wine from a bottle,
a bitter cognac into a cup,
and though your flame should sometimes be fostered by the alcohol,
at times it is too much.
For that, I apologize.
I would be better for you.
I would fight your battles,
be the brunt of every joke,
be the example of those who do not care,
take any punch your enemies might throw.
I would believe.
I would feel passion enough to believe in something.
I believe in nothing,
but
I believe in you.
In your light and darkness,
in your speech and silence,
in your disbelief in me.
I said that I would black your boots when,
in reality,
I would die for you.