Every day I write two words,
With an old Bic pen upon my wrists:
Risk and Love in dark blue ink,
Sleeves pulled down to cover this.
It's a declaration, a reminder,
Of the chance I've sworn to take,
To try, to work, to listen
Even if my heart should break.
This "us", this "we", is the risk I choose.
To love and be loved, even if we lose.
But we won't have lost, not really
Even if this "we" should end.
Risking and loving and breaking
Are better than never having to mend.
