You tell me you love me
like the declaration gives you
permission to be re-birthed,
like it will open you and
make it possible for you to live
not just one, but two lives. But
I am not your god, I cannot
give you new life and I am
not willing to die so that you
might live. My words are not miracles
and neither is my love.
My love will not save you. Hell,
most times it doesn’t even save me.
So when you tell me you love me
and I cannot find the will or the words
to offer your lie back to you, just breathe
a sigh of relief and let relief wash over
you like an afternoon breeze.
Night is not so far away that
we must be afraid to embrace it.
Peace & Love,