Evan
I realized I grow more and more every day. I know this because I've discovered that kisses aren't band aids. Anyone can give them and some fall off easier than others. I have trouble writing poetry about you because you can't just be a short collection of words that rhyme; you're a never-ending story that I want to put on repeat until I fall asleep for good. I'm numb because I keep giving to people who never give anything back. But baby, you give so much yet I don't know why. I use your gifts to fill up the wrong heart and by the time I realize what I feel is wrong and misplaced, I'm already drowning in a puddle of tears from my disgrace. But still I can't stop myself from speaking to you cause your words are my comfort for the heartbreak you've caused. I'm wondering if I'm still bleeding because your band aids won't stick. Over and over in my head I contemplate if you're a necessity in my life but the more I live on, I've come to accept the fact that you are the ice stuck to my paths of life. Every road I don't dare to travel on unless you are there. It's a damn slippery slope but I'm daring to learn how to ice skate. It's either that or cry tears of salt to melt this fucking pain away. You're making me say goddamn a lot more, not out of stress or pain but astonishment. You amaze me every day. I thought I'd know better and run away from this vicious cycle but you're an awful remix of an old song I can't help but dance to. You change me but in the sense that you make me more headstrong. I find myself digging my goddamn foot into the ground but now I've got them stuck and can't escape your mesmerizing range. We sing the same songs but you're changing the tune to make it your own and baby, that's fine with me just do me a favor and don't forget that I'm singing, too. You have a habit of looking out for yourself cause you've done it since your age earned a second digit, but you gotta remember I'm something you can lose. Don't act like I mean nothing cause I'm something -- I'm more than that; I believe I've become a part of you. A grand, big part of your life so baby, don't let yourself fucking forget it.
YOU ARE READING
How I Love You
Poetry". . . . Then must you speak / Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well; / Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, / Perplex'd in the extreme. . . ." -Act 5, Scene 2 of Othello by W. Shakespeare A collection of poems to the boys and men I hav...
