To prove to you that I loved you
I let you mark me with your teeth.

To prove to you that I loved you
I filled a page of my journal with your name.

To prove to you that I loved you
I wrote you a song and compared you to a drug.

To prove to you that I loved you
I sang you that song over the phone.

To prove to you that I loved you
I talked to you until the sun came up and my eyes were heavy.

To prove to you that I loved you
I put your hand to my chest and let you hear the heartbeat you created.

To prove to you that I loved you
I said yes more times than I said no.

To prove to you that I loved you
I told you my darkest secrets.

To prove to you that I loved you
I stayed when you tried to push me away.

To prove to you that I loved you
I told my mother that I loved you too.

To prove to you that I loved you
I wrote you more poems than I had paper.

To prove to you that I loved you
I kept those words sacred, only saying them when I thought you needed to be reminded.

*But how do I prove to you that I still do?

You are so strong. You are so brave.
Yet you put on masks instead of your face.

You lie beneath them. You dissapear.
Thinking that you’re in the clear.

Seafoam lion, I see your soul.
You try to hide it-- it’s what you were told.

Your walk is not yet comfortable--
Your strides a little frail.
That roar is still hiding
Beneath your fear to fail.

My little cub, let me protect you.
I’m not much, but I’ll give you my all.
My king of the jungle, I feel your struggle,
And I will catch you if you fall.

I don’t mind.
(but I do)

I haven’t thought about it since I heard it escape your lips.
(It’s been on replay)

Not at all.
(every minute)

It doesn’t bother me.
(can’t forget it)

I’m fine.