I love you.
You love me.
So why does silence
stand between us
like a wall neither of us dares to touch?

Why can't we say it—
out loud,
clear,
honest?

Is it fear?
Timing?
Or the quiet belief
that if we speak it,
we might lose
what we're too afraid to reach for?

We carry love
like a secret
burning quietly
beneath the surface.

I’d like to find the words
to cut right through the muck,
but when it comes to you
you know that I’m just stuck,

I ready up the blades
and soap clean my hands,
to work toward the heart
no matter where it lands—

All the things—
We said—
Will forever be dead—

But I’ll hold on—
Instead—
You’ll always live inside my head.

Your spring unwinds still
in bold flits like mourning cloaks
bright marigold wings
into abyss, you call out
Star yet stirred to shadows

rose petals
drift—slowly—
then meet,
igniting a
passion
that trembles
the soul

She laughed
“There you are”
like I was tucked under covers or hiding around the corner
like I didn’t emerge with blood soaked hands
having fought tooth and nail

I found you she squealed
reaching out for me

and god did I drop
with nothing short of relief

Because to come back to her little laugh
and find her effortless grin

I could finally remind her
or maybe it was me
her confidence came
from that little me.