Always isn't easy

When I'm laying here, awake
Half my body warm
And thinking of life
In the early hours of morning
The scope of my insight is wide
Realistic rather than romantic

I've poetically promised
"always", "forever"
As if they were natural and easy
They are neither
Not large, significant movements
But tiny choices

Every
Single
Day

Each, choosing you

I'll still say
"always", "forever"
But now, more slowly
Because I realize
The weight of those words
They are heavy with recognition

Not platitudes
Not easy
But still as true now
As they always were

Miscommunication

The words I should say...
want to say...
need to say...

are stuck in my throat.
I can't coax them out.
Because I am afraid
of what you will hear in them...
read into them...
hurt because of them...

so I'm quiet.
I shrug.
I stew.
My words change,
Into something bitter and unkind.

This is the worst method
Of miscommunication.

It boils down to this

I don't care
Where we go
Or what we do
I just want
To be
With you

When you are distraught

Today
I realized
That you are such
A part of my happiness
That when you
Are distraught
I am shattered
So I will do
Everything I can
And always

I could never take it back

After this
After all this
I don't know how anyone could leave
Because every day
Every day I breathe
The final and the foremost
I've emptied myself
And I could never take it back
Not for a second

Return

I give you everything
All the untried and unknown
The comfortable and secure
You wrap them up with your love
And return them to me, changed

That Sort of Man

Take a girl that is damaged and afraid
Who feels unloveable and questions
Her place in the world.

And give her a man that loves
And cares beyond what
Seems possible.

You will see that girl start to believe
That life can be lovely and
It isn't something to fear.

That is only the beginning
Of all the things that
She might do.

But there is still a fear that it won't last
At least that's what she tells herself
Even though she knows it will.

Because he is that sort of man.