You sure showed me.
I didn’t believe in you. I had my reasons.
I didn’t understand.
You have this presence
Even when you’re pure and requited, you sting
I look at them and sometimes I can’t help but think
How could I breathe
I’ve lost a few and I still don’t know the answer
I don’t know how I keep breathing
That’s probably you too, isn’t it love?
I cry for the world, and bad days, and my gone-too-soon loves
But my present love and possible future loves
They charge my lungs and force the air in and back out of me
They prop me up when I don’t have any strength to stand.
I didn’t have anything to say about love.
But I have so much to say to love
In smiles and tears and sighs, hand holding, kisses, breath
And a million inaudible thank yous.
“Write a love poem. Write an anti-love poem. Your choice.”