I was loved, and as I watched a young dying girl she said that's all that mattered,
and her hands shook but her voice was steady and I watched her heart beat musically
[speak not of what the machines said, she was more alive than anyone I've ever met]
And she asked me what it felt like, she wanted to know if it was real.

I told her I was loved with my windows open,
how I let the rain in and how it stained the wood.
Between my pen strokes, the time between motions,
that I just played to learn how it turned out.
It was all so real to me, he was Time,
I was so unsure, I had no faith.
No heart strings to tie, I had nothing to fumble with.
So I lost it, mature as I was, I was still young, couldn't breathe,
feeble ribcage couldn't hold swollen lungs in.
Every organ wanted to fly while my feet clung to the ground
and I cursed his voice, his sound aloud.

And I grew, and I flourished, and I found myself
inside the wreckage, near the bottom of
bottles and oceans and garbage cans
Another treasure, another piece of trash.
I supported my bones, I stopped taking breathing lessons,
and I learned to find mistakes in more than just myself.

He [might be The One] found me too,
hiding under tables, afraid to speak the truth.
And he whispered in my ear and spun my thoughts around,
and suddenly I was conscious

We clicked, fit, didn't mind how I'd forget to say goodnight.
Knowing that I was maybe hoping he would be there in the morning,
to watch me wake up the sun, smiling with a hangover, unrequited love.

She beeped and fidgeted,
and I watched how the light hit her eyes.
She had so much left to live,
I just kept explaining...

Behind door number one, the fact that I have never been with anyone more than...
I've been with merchants and sailors and beggars and stealers,
but no one who placed [strong] hands on my spine and arched me forward,
sold me confidence for close to nothing,
blew breath in my air and directed the wind,
spun my thoughts around and melted the sin,
or someone who pleaded for my permission with eyes
that shone like more than hunger,
that refracted in the sunlight,
gold to green to crumpling leaves and back again,
it was such a paramount, romantic scene,
flickering clips of a pre-aged couple
learning the taste and story of their lips.
Try to believe me when I say that there
is so fucking much there on my tongue,
waiting on the tip, waiting for the right time.

Oh we fit, we clicked.

And all the words are now rinsing off,
smoothly, underwater, under his weight,
I'm trying not to hold back,
trying not to be held down as
my back memorizes these springs.

I'm saying how I feel,
don't run, don't take off,
don't bolt, I'll..
I'll take it back.

But you do too, don't you?
I heard it, so quietly,
your eyes tried to talk.
Then again in the dark
as I slide through the door.

I'll keep it there, resting on your lips,
and I'll be back or you can show up in my bed,
and I will try to tell you everything,
I will give all I have and
I'll be yours, with metaphorical incisions
all over my skin,
I love you too.

You stole my heart away
and ran like I'd be angry.

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