Maybe it's not okay
for me to want you like this.
Still, I've wanted you for so long
that it doesn't matter if it's wrong.
I can't distinguish
between good and bad because all I ever see
is light in the midst of your shadows.
Everywhere people snicker at you,
deem you worthless in your struggles.
I've seen how much it's broken you,
and these fractures wither in denial.
You've asked me repeatedly,
"Why do you love me?"
You close your eyes. I reopen mine.
I scream and whisper.
Stupidly spinning in your web of destruction,
of self-loathing and discharging hatred.
Still, I don't care if they think you're nothing,
but bones and ashes.
Because I see your love for me,
feel it, and taste it.
And it consumes me.
I scream and tell you:
"I love you," while you stare back,
and say, "Me too."
Because we're reflections of death and life,
while you're the night that rains stars on me,
I'm the air you breathe.
So I'll say it again.
Let's share our darkness,
I'll give you light.
Together we'll function,
I promise you it's worth a try.
