It’s obvious that I look at you
and see perfection; even where
there is none, even where
your ugly is. I know that’s why
I hear from you whenever you
feel rejected. Ultimately, you’re
going to find the door again
because you’re looking for
someone a little harder to tame,
and I’m going to end up the
rejected one who can’t seem
to understand why an outpour
of care isn’t enough for you to
stay with me. You call and your
apology is the meekest I’ve
seen, but I run to you faster
than I’ve run before because
it’s you. It’s you. It’s you. I want
to call you selfish but I forgive
you for it before the word makes
it past my mouth. I’m always so
happy to see you that I forget
to ask you to please let me go.