Please Don’t Tell Anyone I Wrote This

Annie Spratt / Unsplash

I feel gross for writing this;
Drunkenly throwing my feelings in to cyberspace,
watching my emotions pixelate across this screen.
With your wildfire heart
and midnight in your eyes,
I had trouble making sense
of what I was seeing with mine.
For the first three months,
I thought you were a dream.
An apparition of everything I’ve ever wanted;
My own personal ghost
haunting me.
They say we have the ability to manifest miracles.
Is that why you are here?
Today I counted my blessings
and came up with the exact same number
of letters in your name and
I no longer know you
from the distance of an arm’s length
because the last five years have been spent
building bridges instead of walls.
You were the first one
to shimmy your way in and
you said
you could be my jungle gym.
I just hope I’m worth the climb and
I hope
you’re worth the fall.
I hope
we can befriend gravity and outsmart time because
for you,
I’m willing to risk it all.
Alice Hoffman once described Chaos Theory
as tiny actions
reverberating throughout the universe
in beautiful and unexpected ways,
like the beating of a single heart,
or a butterfly’s wings
stirring up a storm
in the chests
of galaxies
full of nebulas intertwined.
Like my fingertips
tracing your jawline
or the way you kiss me
and I feel safe enough
to close my eyes, for the first time and
I just hope you know
I had no idea
where any of this would go
when I found myself in your orbit,
I finally discovered
the true meaning of home.
I promise you,
you were never meant to be
just another shitty poem.
I think
I’m falling in love with you.
I’m hoping
you didn’t notice.
Whatever you do,
don’t tell anyone I wrote this. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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