I would go through it all again for you
a hundred times
but I do not think I would still be me
when it was over
and I would rip myself apart for you,
crack open my ribcage and let you
take whatever you wanted.
but you have been teaching me
that you do not need me to,
that I do not need me to.
suspended in a bubble of hiraeth
the tear frozen on my cheek
in the subzero sunlight,
my home is a person,
and they are too far from me
I am holding my bloody heart out to you, my hands stained with red from holding it for so long.
and while you are not the person who ripped it out of my chest,
you are the person I am trusting to take care of it.
maybe you can put it back in for me.
i know what i want now
i didn’t before
i want cold mornings and leaves that crunch under our feet.
I want warm blankets.
I want a house in the woods.
I want clean air and sunshine and my own means of living.
a hand to hold, someone to confide in
I want to be loved; but I most of all,
I want to be loved by you.
“i’m sorry,” I whisper desperately.
i’m sorry for feeling too much.
I’m sorry that it spills out of me uncontrolled, violently.
i’m sorry I was never handled gently.
i’m sorry nobody ever taught me what love is.