i want to love you
the way
i believe
that you should be loved.
but i can't.
beliefs and abilities:
often polar opposites,
rarely do they come hand in hand;
even the most devout Catholic
will sometimes miss
Sunday mass
but i do remember that Sunday,
so long ago now,
that you made me question
the possibility of soulmates
and i remember thinking
about how you bring me
closer
to religion than i've ever been,
your name
falling
(i'm not falling. i'm not
falling. please don't make me.
i hate that)
from my lips, like a heartfelt
prayer amidst our sin.
but that's the point, i suppose:
i don't believe in God.
i believe He is a possibility, but
i can't commit to Him.
won't.
can't commit to anybody—not even
myself.
so maybe i love you;
maybe that's true.
it doesn't change the fact
that i'll never be steady enough
for you.
it doesn't change the fact
that religion can't save me,
that the closest to the Bible i'll ever be
is a representation of
the Devil.
it doesn't change the fact
that i'll never be good enough
for you.
i want to love you
the way
i believe
you should be loved.
i just can't.