september
you sang me a song
and your voice trembled,
and there were ashes in your pockets
and stones on your shoulders,
but you picked my favorite songs
and filled the entirety of my car and my heart.
of course I said yes.
how could I not say yes?
october
you told me in the parking lot
and the pouring rain
that you loved me.
you smiled so wide that
I thought your cheeks might crack,
but they didn't, they shone,
they claimed the sun's place
in the midst of that storm.
and I whispered it back,
not because I was ashamed,
but because no one had ever said those words
and meant them before.
november
you took my hand and laced my fingers
with yours.
you were the first person
that I let walk me through the hallway,
through the city,
through life,
and the first person I ever wanted
to actually hold.
december
you taught me the meaning of grace.
you gently touched my walls and left fingerprints,
so I would know when I saw them
that I was always yours.
you wouldn't break me down,
but you would always remind me that
I was never alone
with smudges on windowpanes
and Christmas lights in your eyes.
Lord, you knew how I loved Christmas,
and I think I'd never loved it more
with you.
january
you walked me through the new year.
you told me your secrets,
and I told you mine,
hundreds of miles apart.
my heart might have broken a little,
but I learned what love meant.
I learned it meant true forgiveness.
you have forgiven me for my weaknesses,
and I have all but forgotten
what you still suffer over.
(it was not you, my love.
start anew. the year is young.)
february
you shouted to the world
that you loved me.
I had never felt comfortable
with public declarations,
but I had to admit,
there was a beauty in your pride,
and it was hard but lovely to remember
that the beauty was me.
march
you clung to me as I faltered.
you saw just a glimpse of what I had meant
when I warned you I was broken.
you couldn't even catch the pieces of me
because I didn't let you know
they were falling.
I am so sorry.
I blamed you for my own faults,
and you, like the lamb I loved,
let me do it.
april
you still held me
even when I held you a distance away.
how could you be so strong?
I want you to forgive me.
I realize I love you,
and I put myself back together
on your charity.
may
you accepted my apologies.
you held me carefully,
as if you had finally realized how fragile I was,
but I clung to you as if I'd found salvation.
(I had.)
it took me all I had
to prove to you that I meant what I said.
your fingerprints will always be
on my windowpanes.
june
you flew a thousand miles away
and I missed you.
I woke up at night
and wondered why you were not beside me,
and you never had been,
but I realized I wished you were.
I never knew the depths of what missing meant
before you were gone,
then and now.
july
you returned, and I left this time,
but we laughed together
and shared our lives
and held each others' hands across the country.
that moment when I held you in my arms again
was when I found a piece of what I'd lost.
you took it.
I'm glad you did.
august
you and I just are.
we lay together
and I am okay with the silence.
I am okay with being close to someone,
so close I can hear your heart;
you have taught me to overcome
that first fear.
you are determined to overcome the rest.
time will tell.
september
you are my rock;
when the waves crash in,
you hold steady and keep me close.
I am so undeserving,
so fragile in comparison,
and yet you still shout your love to the world
and prove to me that you will always smudge my windows,
and I've thrown out all the wipes
because I am glad.
everyone says it is eleven months,
but I never stopped loving you,
so I count it.
make it twelve.
fire made you strong;
fire brought you to me.
maybe it was a blessing.