i should have held you just a little bit closer.*
-k.v.

I will tell you when you're wrong.
I have no problem calling you out on your mistakes
because we both know you're better than that.

I will tell you when I'm wrong as well.
I can put away my pride and admit defeat
because there are things that matter more to me.

I will tell you my thoughts.
I can share all my ideas on the secrets of the universe
because I know you're the only one who understands them.

I will tell you my dreams.
I want you to know every little thing that makes my heart race
in hopes that maybe I'll find

it makes your race as well.

I will tell you of my past.
I will take you by the hand and show you every corner
just so you can hold me when the memories become

too much to bear.

I will tell you my fears.
I will whisper of them all night as we drink our wine
and I will shake at each syllable, but I won't stop.

I will tell you my secrets.
I have so many thoughts inside this wounded mind
that I can't always conjure into words -

but I'll try my best to share them with you,
if you want me to.

I will tell you anything you wish to know
but darling, you must understand -
there are three little words
that I just
can't
tell you.

I remember
when growing up
was desired.
We swung our lungs
upwards,
towards the sky,
so we could steal
the air of the
universe's river.

I'd call you on
my parents' red landline.
You'd call me on
a broken cordless phone.
Your father would yell
and I could hear your mother
knock over things
as she was either
running, hiding, or
fighting back.

You don't exist.
You're a figment of my
imagination.
You're a poem,
but I want you to be
a memory that is real
to substitute the ones
I wish were fake.

You don't exist.
Your name is not
Kimberly or June.
Your ears aren't pierced.
We never played games
or shared deep thoughts.
We never talked about
running the **** away.
We didn't grow up together.
We aren't close.
You were never born.

You are just a phantom
stemmed by an unoriginal
imagination. imagination.
imagination. imagination.
But I want you to be real.
Please exist beyond my mind.

In my head,
you confided in me.
In my head,
I wasn't so ******* alone
from ages 6 to 16.
In my head,
you're a phone call away.
I don't want to write a poem
to communicate to you.
Be born. Be born. Be born.

I have so much
I want to share.
I want you to meet
my girlfriend Rachel.
I want you to hear
about how everything
is going well, for once.

Be born. Be born.
Be born. Be born.

I don't know much,
but I can tell you what "whole" looks like.
I've seen it stumble forward
with weary eyes and tired hands.
Come close,
I will hand you a mirror
and tell you to look carefully.
Can you not hear the galaxies
beneath your skin?
They paint in whispers
that even oceans cannot grasp.
I know it took a hurricane and two floods,
but there is soil in your ribcage;
your scars told me so.
Don't mind them though,
they're just reminders
that you love harder than anyone else.
I know you might feel hollow,
but there is a reason your heart
has lofted ceilings.
Never forget how you fought
for all that space.
Look carefully.
These gray skies inside your lungs
are simply a canvas,
and you rain so beautifully.
Oh darling,
you rain so beautifully.