to the ones who raised me
to the ones who made this "monster" that is I
you are not God
you cannot punish your creation

“Be careful now”
I softly chuckle beneath my breath
“Why”
You curiously ask with amusement painting the corner of your lips
“Because you sound like someone who’s falling for me”
I say boldly with humor dancing in my eyes
“It’s too late for that”
You whisper as you raise your hand to stroke my lower lip with your thumb

With each part of myself that I allow to come undone;
I surrender to the process of becoming.

Our knees were touching
And my hand was shaking
Eager to hold yours

Your voice was too
Reading that piece of poetry
Making me chuckle

I can't wait to miss these days.