It's the way you

smile and

your face

leans to mine

and

you laugh

because you know

you got

me.

It's the way you

sing your

sub-par tunes

and

expect me

to know the

words.

It's the way you

look at

me

when

the sun

is setting

and you

are confessing

and your eyes are

both pale

and dark.

It's the way you

hold me

like you know

you're oh so

lucky

that you found

me

and you

tremble

when

you kiss

me

like you're

scared

I'll run

away.

It's the way you

tell me

that you

care

for me

and when my

tongue

can't sing for my

heart,

you stay

in my

imperfect arms

and

don't expect

me

to know the

words.

They warn me about your

past

but these things live in the

present.

It just

feels good

to make you

feel bad

because then

I

can

be

certain

that you feel

something

because of

me.

You don’t tell me

where you’ve been

and I know you can’t be

what you seem,

oh my darling, I am sorry

but I can’t forget your past.

Though you say that this is

different

all I see are parallels,

you loved her,

you say the same

when you face me.

How do I know if I

can trust you?

Love, you know I do,

but it is still hard to

always be secure.

I live in fear of infidelity

or of your fickle heart -

darling, promise that you’ll

never close this door.

I tell myself that

this is crazy.

That I don’t know you

anymore,

that she knows you

now.

Then I remember

I am crazy,

and who will give

a fuck after

I am gone?

I might as well

confess

that I still love you.

I’m beginning

to give up

on this whole poetry thing.

How can I compare

to the words that fall,

line up, and revise themselves

on your flawless lips?

The other day, I was

reminded of when

all my letters were addressed

to you.

Darling, so much

has changed since then -

same opener, but the message

is new.

I love you

too much,

I think.

I am scared

that you’ll be bored,

or worse,

I’ll scare you off.

I’ve read men like

a challenge,

but I want to

hand you

my heart.

We started this

with you chasing me

and you said

the right things

and wanted

the right things

and I believed

the right things

and fell in love.

Now I feel like

I am chasing you

but I can’t say

the right things

you don’t define

the right things

I want to go back to

the right things;

tell me,

am I losing you?

I hate it when

I start this and

I think that

I can keep it light.

I love you now,

I loved you right when

I touched you, but

I can’t keep it light and

I think I’m grasping too tight and

I need you too much

I need assurance and touch

I was desirable when

I ran but now

I don’t want to chase

I want your soul to want mine

I want you to love me like

I love you

I can’t lose you

I can’t lose you

I am so fucking terrified of losing you

I can’t lose you

I can’t.

The real problem is that

I had you once and

then, when I left you,

you moved on.

And then she had you and

you left her

and now here you are,

you have moved on.

But the problem is

you loved her,

you loved someone else;

she wasn’t me.

And now I have you again

and you say,

“let’s pick up where we

left off,”

but I can’t forget

the years

you spent with her.

I doubt she isn’t

on your mind.

The difference between us

is that you may

love me,

but I have never

loved anyone

but you.

I may be

the best

in your mind,

but you are

the only one

in my heart.

Even if I

have you now,

I will always have to

share

your past.