I’ve never wanted to tell all of my truth
to anyone before—
but here I am, a river unbridled,
spilling out admissions like secrets
torn from the pages of my heart,
each drop a revelation,
a confession without filter,
despite the fear
that I might seem dazed,
a chaos of emotion in a teacup,
swirling with the weight of my longing.  

I've never been so ready
for someone to know me deeply,
to strip away the layers,
like peeling an onion,
each skin revealing the raw core,
the essence of what I keep hidden,
and I wonder, often,
if you want me to know you
in the same way,
to dive into the depths
of your fears and desires,
to uncover the things
that make your heart race,
your favorite foods
that dance on your tongue,
what ignites your anger,
and what stirs your passion.  

I want to hear your favorite song,
the one that echoes in your mind
like a sweet refrain,
and the memory from childhood
that glimmers like a lost star,
the first person who shattered
your tender heart,
leaving shards of longing
scattered in the dark.
What’s your favorite scary movie,
the one that sends chills
skittering down your spine,
or the lyrics that draw forth tears,
a catharsis written
in the ink of your mind?  

I want to know how you take your coffee,
the warmth that fills your mornings,
and your favorite restaurant,
the fullness of flavors,
where every bite feels like home,
your favorite city,
the one that cradles you,
a place where your spirit unfolds
like feeling the warmth of the sun.
I need to know your favorite curse word,
the one that slips from your lips
like a secret indulgence,
and the person you admire most,
a beacon guiding your way.  

Do cilantro and soap taste alike for you, too?
I want to know if you could live
this life all over again,
what you’d change,
what you’d keep the same,
your favorite road trip snack,
the guilty pleasure of your Taco Bell order,
and your favorite meal
that I could conjure for you,
a gift crafted in the kitchen
to nourish more than just your body.  

But I also want to know the big things—
why did you fall in love with me?
What does our future look like,
the dreams we weave together,
the plans for this life
that we dare to imagine?
In the essence of us,
I seek the threads of connection,
the intricate patterns of our combined beings,
intertwined in this delicate dance,
as I spill my truth
like an offering,
and hope you’ll meet me
with your own.  

I just want to breathe,
like I did when you were here,
each breath a gentle tide,
rising and falling,
a symphony of air,
filling the spaces
between heartbeats,
the soft pulsing of life
that thrummed in your presence.

When the world asks,
“How are you?”
I want to answer,
“Good,”
and mean it,
not just a mask,
a painted and posted smile
hiding the truths
that twist like vines
around my breast.
In your absence,
the air thickens,
a fog of longing
that clings to my skin,
and I find myself gasping,
choking on words
I cannot say.

In those moments
when laughter danced
like fireflies in the twilight,
I was filled with a light
that made the shadows retreat,
and the mundane sparkled
with the magic of us,
each glance a silent promise,
each almost touch a spark igniting
the dry kindling of my heart.

I crave that breath,
the one that swells
with possibility,
the one that doesn’t falter
when I speak your name,
the one that doesn’t tremble
under the weight of separation,
but expands,
fills the room,
wraps itself around me
like your arms,
strong and steady,
a refuge.

Oh, to be able to say,
“Good,”
and mean it,
to let the truth flow
like a river,
clear and deep,
instead of the murky waters
that swirl in my chest,
the unspoken fears,
the aching void
where your laughter used to echo.

With you, I was alive,
each breath a testament
to the beauty of connection,
to the thrill of the ordinary,
the magic woven
into the fabric of the everyday.
So I hold on to that memory,
the way I could breathe
when you were in the room,
and I yearn
to reclaim that ease,
to find that rhythm again,
and whisper to the world,
“Yes, I am good,”
with a heart full of truth,
and the light of your love
guiding me home.

I’ve never had anyone see me
the way you see me,
as if I were a rare bird in a cage,
each feather a whispered secret,
each flicker of wing a thought,
nestled in the quiet of the mundane.
You, with your eyes that drink
the delicate brew of my words,
devouring them like bread,
each crumb a lifeline to your heart.

You pay attention to the details,
to the little things I say in passing,
the sighs that linger in the corners of my mind,
the shadows that dance behind my words.
I’ve never known anyone to cherish
the intricacies of my thoughts,
to weave them into the fabric of your being
as if they were nourishment,
sustenance for a hungry soul.

How humbling it is,
at this age, to only now awaken my heart,
to feel the weight of love so real,
a pulse that throbs in the silence,
echoing in the chambers of my heart.
It is almost humiliating,
the realization that I was adrift,
lost in a sea of false affections,
until you anchored me,
reminding me what it means to be seen.

I will spend the rest of my life
crafting a language of gratitude,
a lexicon of devotion,
to show you how much you mean to me.
I’ll gather the pieces of my heart
and lay them at your feet,
a mosaic of love,
each shard a promise,
each glimmer a vow.

I’ve disappointed you once,
and the weight of that guilt clings,
a shadow I refuse to let linger.
I’ll guard your heart with fierce tenderness,
with every breath, every whispered sigh,
for in your gaze, I’ve found my truth,
and in your love, my home.

Your character slipped in,
a shadow at the door,  
late to the dimly lit stage  
of my unraveling story,  
and yet, somehow,  
you defined the entire plot line,  
a gravity that pulled  
the fragments of my life  
into a constellation of meaning.

What can I say?  
You are the star of my show,  
the luminous thread  
that stitches together  
the chaos of my thoughts,  
a bright flare against  
the drab backdrop of routine,  
transforming the mundane  
into a miraculous wonder.

You arrived like a comet,  
trailing stardust in your wake,  
igniting a fire  
where there was only ash,  
the flicker of hope  
in a world dulled by predictability.  
Your laughter dances  
through the script of my days,  
each word a note  
in a symphony of possibility.

I had written my lines  
in shades of gray,  
the ink heavy with doubt,  
but you, with your radiant presence,  
rewrote my narrative,  
turned the page to color,  
painting the edges of my heart  
with the bold strokes of love.

Now, as the plot thickens  
and the chapters unfold,  
I find myself lost  
in the orbit of your light,  
the way you weave through my existence,
a golden thread in the fabric of my being,  
reminding me that late arrivals  
can change everything,  
turn the ordinary  
into the extraordinary,  
and make the story worth telling.

I can’t stop thinking about the moment
I will look into your eyes again,  
those orbs of uncharted depths,
where stars collide and time suspends,
a universe contained within a glance.
I ponder the words that will spill from my lips,
if I can even speak at all,  
or if the floodgates will open,  
and I’ll dissolve into a sea of tears,  
each drop the proof of my longing,  
and the ache of absence that has carved  
its name in the marrow of my bones.  

I wonder where we will be,  
what the air will taste like,
if your voice will dance through the space
between us, warm and familiar,  
or if we shall stand in silence,  
the weight of our unspoken thoughts  
suffocating the air,  
and if I think about it too long,  
the thought solidifies,  
a vivid specter that terrifies me  
with its tangibility.  

I’ve never wanted anything more real
in my whole life,
and yet, the fear creeps in,  
a shadow lurking in the corners,  
that something—anything—  
will conspire to keep us apart,  
that I shall dwell in this purgatory,  
a life devoid of your essence.  
That thought scares me more  
than swimming with sharks,  
their sleek bodies slicing through  
the depths of my resolve,  
but I know, if faced with that choice,  
if the ocean was the price  
to touch your hand again,  
I would plunge into the abyss,  
my heart pounding like a war drum,  
for that is not my worst fear anymore.  

My worst fear is a life without you,  
a barren landscape where joy once bloomed,  
and that’s not hyperbole or melodrama—  
if you were to ask me, what haunts my nights,  
what thought can wrench me from sleep,  
it is that, the gnawing void  
that swallows me whole.  
At least if I could swim through terror,  
it would lend me the illusion of control,
a desperate grasp at fate,  
for this is hell,  
and I know hard—I’ve danced with death  
more times than I can count,  
but this heartache eclipses them all,  
a relentless ache that defies measure,
an emptiness that echoes
through the chambers of my soul.  

I don’t want to hurt anymore,  
yet the pain is all that remains of you,  
a twisted comfort laced with attachment,  
a tether to the ghost of what was,  
and I know it’s all so very twisted,  
but it’s the only way I can explain  
this strange alchemy of love and loss.  
There is no one else for me but you,  
and I don’t care what the world says  
about completeness in solitude;  
my heart needs you to feel whole,  
and it always will,  
for you have branded it with your design,  
a mark that will never fade,  
and it will never beat the same,  
forever changed, forever yours,  
a relentless echo of the love  
that binds me,  
even in this aching absence.

I will never untether myself from your side,
now that I know you were the anchor  
holding me fast against the raging tides,  
the whisper of your presence a lifeline,
a healing salve for wounds I didn't know
had cut so deeply. Each waking dawn,
I faced the weight of a world unmoored,
wondering how I might breathe without
the oxygen of your light to sustain me.


Now, I stand here, giddy with the promise
of the tomorrows we will share, my heart
swelling with the thrill of our entwined fates,
as if the cosmos itself has rearranged
the very stars to bring our souls into alignment.
You, unaware of the earthquake you've stirred  
within me, this revelation, this liberation
from the chains of my own unraveling.

I confess, I am humbled by my ignorance,
the realization that I do not truly grasp
what it means to be cherished, to be held
without the ever-present specter of loss
haunting the periphery. I do not seek pity,
only honesty, to unveil the shadows
that have danced within the chambers
of my guarded heart, the instinct that
whispers everyone will leave, that no one
could care for me as deeply as I do them.

If I am to be truly bare before you, I must admit
the way you make me feel is a maelstrom,
a whirlwind of emotion that leaves me adrift,
reality and fantasy blurring at the edges,
as if love itself has woven an intricate vellum,
binding our spirits in a bond that defies logic.
Every moment is a grappling, a bewilderment -
how can I love you so profoundly, feel the pull
of your very essence, when we have not yet
even shared a solitary touch alone,
in a room where our laughter could
rise and our secrets float like balloons
reaching for the sky’s embrace?

It is all so achingly, impossibly real, as if we've  
stumbled into a dream too fragile, too precious  
to be true. And I wonder, do you feel it too,
this magnetic force that binds us, that could
weave our fates into a  story of love,
a witness to the beauty that flourishes
in the spaces between us, waiting, always waiting,
for the moment to unfurl, to live, to be seen.

I want to make you your favorite food  
when sickness casts its shadow over you,
to prepare a meal filled with warmth and care,
each ingredient a wish for your recovery,
the comforting aroma surrounding you,
making you feel at ease.

I want to feel your arm around me  
when night brings unsettling dreams,  
waking at 3 a.m. from fears  
that gnaw at my thoughts—  
and in that moment,  
with your heartbeat against my skin,
I’ll know it will all be fine,
because you are right here,
my constant support in the chaos.

I want those “what are we doing for dinner?” texts,
the familiar back-and-forth of our daily lives
where I reply, “I don’t know,”  
and that simple exchange  
is a connection anchoring our day,  
a reminder of our shared rhythm.

I want our pizza movie nights,
making the dough together,  
our hands dusted with flour,  
as we create something enjoyable,  
watching movies in our pajamas,  
the outside world fading into the background.

I want to lock eyes with you at a party,  
across a crowd of laughter and chatter,  
and know this whole night is just for us,  
the thrill of your mischievous smile igniting  
a spark of foreplay that only we can feel,  
a private moment amidst the noise.

I want to sketch you while you’re relaxed,  
the glow of the TV lighting up your face,  
your laughter ringing from room to room,  
your voice singing sweetly,  
a sound that lingers in the air.

I want to hear you laughing with friends,  
and having serious conversations with your daughter,  
the moments of your life filled with love and joy,  
each experience weaving together  
the fabric of our days.

I want you to be my plus one,  
my emergency contact,  
my safe place,  
for the rest of this life,  
as we dress for outings,  
dreaming together in the moments we share.

I want to enjoy the night sky,  
the cool water around us as we swim,  
laughing and playing freely,  
the universe witnessing our joy.

I want to read my poetry about you,
my feelings shared in front of a crowd,
and see you standing in the back,
your presence offering comfort,
a reminder of your support.

I want to have conversations about life and music,  
to share ideas and enjoy each other’s company,  
and lean my head on your shoulder  
at the movies,  
finding comfort in your presence.

I want to simply breathe in your scent,
your essence a familiar embrace,  
I know it’s unusual,  
but it’s the comfort of you,  
the warmth of home.

I want to plan a surprise party for you,  
the excitement of keeping a secret,  
the joy of gathering people  
to celebrate you,  
a reflection of all that you mean to me.

I want to explore the stories 
on your skin with my lips and my tongue,  
each tattoo a piece of your journey,  
a reminder of where you’ve been,  
a testament to your life.

I want to listen to the sounds of the night,  
the crickets singing their tune,  
a soundtrack to our shared moments,  
hand in hand, heart to heart.

I want to grow old with you,  
to witness the changes of the seasons
in our lives together,  
to share vows spoken with sincerity,  
promises made with love,  
binding us in this beautiful journey,
forever together.