Everything you do,
everything I say
is suspended in the layers
of admiration and disbelief.
What I feel lies somewhere between
“the love that is” and “the love that cannot be”.
where my uncertain feelings live,
here you will find my many graves
and here I will die again.
Not because your love can’t save me,
but because I doubt every heart
that holds me too dear,
I want to run away from this love
that is ready to die with me.
I realized in my failures
that I was not nearly as good as I thought I was
and whatever I am was not worth that much
at least not in my own eyes.
And nothing I did could change anything
unless I could see the significance
of what I am and what I do.
I worked hard.
I lost sleep.
But my efforts to become worthy of my dream
turned out to be too less.
I turned out to be too less.
But somehow I was relieved to see
that even when I was empty-handed
I knew how to find my way to the beginnings
and start again.
So I couldn’t pity myself in that moment
but feel almost an admiration for this person
who didn’t know how to give up.
I can’t hear your sighs
while you think I do not care enough.
I would love to bind myself and my life
Had I not been so sure
that freedom is the only measure of happiness for me.
The love they talk about
is not in my heart.
I can’t harbor such sweetness.
I can’t live in surrender.
I was not made for that.
My heart was not made to be loved,
but to be cherished.
I won’t settle for anything less.
I do not ask for anything more.
My idea of love was never
the protection or sense of safety I always lacked.
Or admiration true or false
that could put to sleep the complexes I have.
Or to be touched in ways
that make human hearts race.
My idea of love was
to be so precious to someone
that they you never
change me or break me.
You changed me.
You broke me.
And I only remember the sighs you took while doing so.
Making me feel less than what I am.
But still, I breathe the same air as you,
You almost loved me.