Poetry night

I love you
I do not know your ticks and charms and daily habits
But I love you
I love the way your voice cracks
how softness wells in your eyes and runs down your cheek just to be wasted on the floor
I love that honesty is all you know
Because you cannot lie, as you cry before hundreds of eyes
And they can see you
I can see you
how can one express such gratitude that boils blood
brutality that whips past me like i am but a bystander on the highway that is your life
and yet somehow I see myself in the car that you drive
Your vulnerability is quenching to a thirst for connection
If there is a way that love can be felt tangibly it is this
Love, I believe, is not selfish, but it is seeing yourself in others, and an understanding that english cannot contain
I love you
now can I know you


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anxious 20-something in new england busy finding meaning in other peoples houses critics welcome

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