I don’t need a love that waits outside,
pacing hospital halls with excuses in hand.
I need someone who will sit beside me,
fingers laced through mine like stitches,
pulling me together where I unravel.

I don’t need a love that floats above,
watching from shore, calling me back.
I need someone who will drown with me,
trusting I will rise, trusting I will take them too,
because I have before. Because I will.

We were parallel lines, forever close,
never meant to touch—
until the moment you turned to me,
until I turned to you,
and suddenly, we crossed, suddenly, we changed.
Perpendicular. Colliding.

But love is cruel in the ways it saves.
The only way I knew to love you
was to give you silence. To give you peace.
And so, I did. I let you go,
not because I stopped loving you,
but because I never would.