anon #22

no warnings

i had told myself way back when
that i do not want to love you.
that i would rather take the secret in my own heart to the grave
than speak it aloud and risk falling.

but you have been and always will be the sun,
the brightest thing i’ve ever seen
and you illuminate thoughts that i didn’t want to think about
(that i didn’t think i’d ever have)
and open up parts of me i thought were sewn shut.

you, the concept of you
(and, the better concept of you and me)
makes my heart unravel in the confines of my chest.
what was once hollow now isn’t.
and i let it come undone.

(for you, i would.
for you, i do.)

but leaving myself open and vulnerable like that is a risk
one i would take
but one i might regret

but that’s what happens when you fly too close to the sun
you burn, and sometimes you fall.
(but i don’t want to fall,
i want to soar and reach and reach, higher, higher.)

the higher i fly, the greater the fall,
but if it means i have a chance in hell,
i would take it.
(for you, i would take it.)

but if i don’t, and i burn myself
reaching for something unobtainable,
let me fall gently
let me down easy.

so there might be some hope of untangling myself
from this woven and intertwined mess people so fondly call love