grayscale photography of man and woman

You Don’t Make Me Weak In The Knees, But I Like It Better This Way

Girls talk about how their lover makes them weak in the knees.

But for me, that just is not true. I wish I could tell you how weak you make me feel from the love or yearning I feel. I wish I could tell you that when you look at me, I feel butterflies in my tummy. I wish I could tell you that I feel light and airy when you say my name. I wish I could say that the words move slowly through my throat when I speak to you. I wish I could say that I feel the flush in my cheeks burn when I’m in front of you.

But I don’t.

For once, these achy bones feel strong and as if they can do all the things I have told them they cannot.

For once, I feel strong and supported. No longer am I the weak little bird ripe for picking by the prey lurking in the shadows of the alleyway as I walk home alone at night. And yes, I walk alone.

When you look at me, for once, I feel I have value. Not because you give it to me, but because you look at me as if I have so much to give. As if I am the most incredible being to exist. I feel valued because you see my value and help remind me of my abilities. I feel valued because I alone am a person of value. If anything, you banish my nerves, not cause them.

For once, I feel grounded. No longer floating through space and time in a haze, trying to find my footing. When you say my name, it pulls me back from the brink of falling into the unknown, of disassociation, of floating through the abyss.

I wish I could say you make me weak.

But I’m glad I can’t.

bisexual poet from Canada | she/they

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