It occurs to me that
I used to fear the dark
How odd to have known so much more of myself than of the world
What could be out there?
Lying in wait
All of the wildest threats of my imagination not yet disproved

Now the darkest corners of my mind lay unexplored
And I have grown worldly in my age
I am the monster now
And I am already in my bed

I would turn my body into a sunset, if I could [Brooke]
I would [Louis] paint my very soul [Louis] across a desert sky
And when I had gone
When I had faded from this world [Emily] completely [Emily]
I would leave a moonless sky in my wake
Then you could look upon it [Shelby]
And know how much I love you
My love could be written [Julianna] out in constellations,
Like all the myths of the ancient world
I would tell you [Scarlett] how much I love you [Scarlett] , if I could
But alas, it is no small or simple thing
[But alas, it is no small or simple thing]

I do not love your laugh
I do not love your smile,
Or your eyes,
Or the way you hold my hand in yours
I do not love the way you blow on the back of my neck to cool me down
Or the way that you stroke my shoulder to soothe me
I do not love your kindness
I do not love your sense of humor
I do not love the image of myself I see mirrored in your soul
Nor the image of you mirrored in mine
I do not love your loyalty,
Your quirks,
Or your artistic hand

What is left to love?
You ask
Do I love you at all?

I love the spaces between you
I love the places in you where I have room to breathe
I love you in all the cracks,
And all the gaps,
And all the little crevices
My love exists between your neurons firing
Between every electron of every atom that is you
I love the stitches holding together the fabric of who you are
When you hold your hand to a mirror,
My love is in the glass between your fingers touching
I love the intangible, quiet energy that is only you
Without action
Without effort
Just you
Can only ever be you

I see lines of you in the silhouettes of the scurf of a world without you
I hear your voice calling my name:
In empty hallways,
Serenades,
And odes written on deathbeds,
Declaring that your final words should "I love you"
And as I lie dow unfamiliarly in a bed without you,
I curl up and imagine that you are here,
And as I drive back to you-- home, across dark landscapes,
The headlights of the oncoming traffic reflect off my glasses and beam through dark air,
And your voice calls my name one final time in the lonely hotel room behind me

They say write a poem in ten words,
And I think that I can’t pour out my soul in such a small space
I think that my mind is worth 15 words at least
But I think
And I try
I crumble up paper like it’s love letters from the people I hate
And I write a poem
Write my heart and soul out in thin black ink
And then I pick the ten words that I can’t set free
And they are: small, trees, alone, forest, love, flashlight on a broken sea
And I sigh
Because I was never good with stories