Love you.
Love you?
The **** is love anyway?
I care about you.
My fear for you makes me cry sometimes,
when you                   can’t see.
You have to be here.
You have to be here.
I don’t need anything from you but that you’re here, walking this earth.
I want you, all of you, every flawed thing that makes you who you are.
I want you in my arms where I can keep you safe, protect you from the world that makes you unable to breathe.
“I love you.”
The words sound true,
Even if I don’t know what they mean.
Do they form an anchor, holding you to this plane?
Then they might actually mean
Something.