I want you to write me a poem:
tell me you love me,
and let me hear it in the absence of your voice.
I want to hear your words in the silence,
to watch your hands move and your pulse jump,
I want to let your colors swirl in front of my eyes
as I fall even more in love with you.
I want to let you to rest on my shoulder,
heavy and warm,
so that I can breathe you in
and let you rest because you are too world-weary for someone your age.
Let me have this moment:
I have never gotten to say I loved you to your face,
and although you knew,
there is still something missing
that will darken everything.
So please, write me a poem:
tell me that you do not love me,
that your skin will never burn for me,
that your colors only move in straight lines,
and that you do not actually talk with your hands the way I always picture you.
I want to hear silence,
I want you to be still and steady,
and I do not want you to make me fall in love with you.
Let me brush your hair back as you sleep,
and then tiptoe away,
and cry softly so I will not wake you.
I will not be okay for a while,
I am not as okay as I tell you I am,
and sitting on the edge telling you about who I can't seem to hate
hurts just as much as you standing on the other side of the shelf did.
And as much as I want to have no drama this summer,
there is an inevitability that surrounds us
that will manifest itself in tears and absences.
Those absences should never be yours,
because I know you will have the starring role,
and they need you more than I do.
I am begging of you,
write me a poem:
tell me that you do not love me like I loved you,
that your heartbeat is even and slow,
that you are saving your feelings for the ones I've been jealous of
wanting to be
my entire life.
Tell me that I am not good enough,
prey on my insecurities,
and never say the right thing.
Write me a poem:
tell me everything I couldn't tell you,
and make it all okay,
and make it so I no longer see you in the absence of light,
because I do not want to feel this way unless I have to.