I loved you in all the distance
in the space between the miles
of words we never said.
I waited in the wings of every conversation.
Every flicker of that hopeful flame,
I devoured like a moth,
letting you devour me.
I lived on the love I carried
in my pocket of last resorts.
Only the grittiest guilts down there,
with my razorblades and cyanide
and every tear you never saw,
every scar I kept away from prying eyes
and wandering hands that I wanted
everywhere but where you could see
what loving you has done to me.
I love you
with the longing of all
the words we left unsaid,
with the fervor of the fire
we stoked with our pride,
the distance of the bridges
we built just to burn,
with all the finality
of the times we said goodbye.
The grip you hold on my heart –
as tight as my fingers were crossed
when I said