To love like a poet

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I love you like a poet

I wish I could love you more than I do, but i fear I have wrapped my heart in paper —

Always bleeding over poetry you could never understand, and I’m afraid that’s not going to be enough for you for too long.

You need someone who can speak, shout, declare; … and i know my love is silent – but it’s there.

You know, I built you a paper castle once,

thin walls barely holding up the roof I folded anxiously with trembling care.

I dreamed of a reality where this could be our home, Hanging our pictures on the white walls…

A reality where you spoke my language, and i spoke yours.

Somewhere where my efforts weren’t wasted on something I was too afraid to share with you.

I wish I had taken you there, though.

Watched your hand open the Books i like to hide, shown you the tearstains on my journal pages right where your name claimed the margins in bold, repeating letters – where my heartbeat marked every line

my hands wrote as they spoke for its longing with sincerity.

–

You love me, i know you do.

but you see paper as a waste of trees.

You may see my words but you cant feel them like i can,

and so you shrug and move on.

You prefer them in other forms anyways. – you prefer stares that speak in silence and hands that show attention and affection, while mine can’t ever drop the pen I’m holding, and my eyes can’t leave the lines I’ve drawn.

Still, I built you that paper castle, Knowing you wouldnt ever get to see it. – But just the thought was enough for me, to keep it alive in my drawer.

I know.

Its paragraphs have never lost their weight, and the feelings layered on white pages are as real as the papercuts they left on my ink stained fingers.

But i still wished i could love you more

–

More in the way you need me to.