catharsis.

I could be good to you.

i. I could hold you tight whenever you're on the verge of breaking, so close that you feel your heart beating right against mine.

ii. I could lace my fingers between yours whenever you need something to chase away the bad thoughts, whenever you need to remember that you're here, that you're real, and that you exist.

iii. I could make dinner with you. I could make dinner for you, if you wanted. I could try. and then I could kiss you as you lift me onto the kitchen counter, the tabletop still dusted with spices and flour.

iv. I could rub your sore shoulders after a long day at work, murmuring softly to you as I will the ache to lessen, pressing my cheek into your back as I clasp my arms around your waist and breathe you in.

v. I could watch bad movies with you till the break of dawn, scoffing when you complain or make a horrible joke, kissing you sleepily when you start to mumble or your arms begin to tighten around me.

vii. I could lay my head on your chest and trace the curve of your shoulder, just the two of us, no words, just quiet thoughtfulness as I seal tenderness into your skin with every touch.

viii. I could kiss the thin silver scars over the skin of your wrist (my heart breaking for each one); a reminder that I love you. a reminder that you deserve to be safe, that you deserve to be happy, that you deserve to be cared for. a reminder for whenever you forget.

ix. I could take you places, creating new experiences and sharing stories with you. I could tell you the tale of a dragon who swallowed the sun as we walk down busy streets hand-in-hand, our eyes and hearts wide open. I could paint memories onto every place we go to.

x. I could.

xi. I could.

xii. but I can't.