For you, I would have given my whole life.
Those days when comfort could only be found
in your bed, I would have driven hours to be next
to you.
All you ever long for is the validation of doing enough.
The never-ending tasks, the days where you watched
the sunset into itself and wished that it were you.
To be born again into an entirely new person because
the life you live is nothing but a routine.
You, the one who would give their last breath to anyone,
to give their whole soul in hopes that you would be given the same.
Every ounce of you is poured into different people,
a little bit of you walks the halls of beautiful buildings, on busy
streets and quiet fields, and for some reason, it
was worth everything.
I would have given you my last bite, my last bit of
cash, my last words to tell you, "I am here no
matter what you’ve done. I am here even if the
sun decides to swallow us whole if it means you
will never be hurt again."
For you, there is not a single thing I wouldn’t do.
I look at you and I see myself.
The person who says, “I love you,” too fast. The type
who holds so much weight, that sometimes
it’s not even our own. We give so much of ourselves
that the person in the mirror isn’t recognizable.
We stand on tall buildings and never think
for a second we could be bigger than this.
I want to be bigger than this.
The holes in my heart are pieces of a puzzle
that has yet to be solved. I try to find solutions in
people but maybe I’ve looked too far. Maybe home
is this beautiful body of mine.
I will tuck myself into my arms tonight. I will
watch the stars dance and pretend that their midnight
performance was just for me. I will whisper sweet-nothings
to the air and hopefully it will come back to me when I
need it the most. I’ll think of you, I’ll hear your name
and I’ll pray you do the same.
Today, I took the long way home.
As selfish as it sounds, it gave me time to think
about the person I will become.
