i want to write you something that holds no pretenses. as if before what i’ve written were false and substantial, but now i want it raw. i want it certain. i want you to know that the unspoken doesn’t mean i’ve lost my will to love you each and everyday. i want you to know that my silence isn’t but, a tone with restless i love you’s because it is; and because i do. there is nothing more consumable and true when those three words don’t come out enough. but when it’s you, it is. you are no star, no moon, no poetic agenda, you are only human. and with every human that you are, i’ve accepted. with every human that you are, i’ve loved.