the more you open
the can of worms
that is your vulnerability

the more i realize
how you see yourself
and how i see you
and
your
sparkle

while you hold
firm in the face
of my tears and frustrations

you respond to yours
by withdrawing,
by retreating,
by ignoring texts and
holding your breath

i retreat as well.

communication terrifies me
i have always avoided it
until now

i am more scared of
what would happen
if i kept quiet.

i oh-so-often want
you to know

i can see you building
yourself back up
from rubble

pulling through life
is the hardest thing
you could do

and guess what,
you’re doing it.

your beauty radiates
from every smile,
every kiss,
every breath.

you’re the only one
who has told me i was beautiful
and i believed it.

when i listed my diagnoses
you joked about taking notes
but it wasn’t a joke

you took those notes

they sit, whirring behind your eyes,
reminding you that perhaps
our brains work in sync

“unspecified” we laughed,
something bad happened,
i just don’t get the nightmares.

i haven’t really told you
what that trauma was,
exactly,

you’ve seen me shut down
because the idea of you
drinking that
stuff
was too much

i’ve lashed out at
unexpected intoxication

but the wheels spun faster
when i told you what we share,
when the anger bubbled up,
“how didn’t they know sooner?”

but in reality,

we function poorly
individually

but together we balance -
i make plans so
we can be impulsive

you hold me closer
when i shiver at night