You whispered to me ancient, unshared, yet unkept, intergenerational heirlooms while you flirted with my sighs, and your eyes smiled at the movement of my lips. Paid close attention to all moronic things I said, and smirked at snarky remarks uttered.
Need not worry about spiritual cleansing- that would be wasted on you, even though I know you were programmed to think that way.
At a loss for words to describe your beauty, and how deeply you have made me care for you.
Some days it's hard to look up-
It can be tough to pretend
That I'm not crumbling
Like anthills in hard rain
The weight is heavy sometimes
The lines fall hard
And then I'm falling apart
A river that banks can't contain.
It can be hard to see
Crumbling in your wake
Look at me; please don't turn
Is this what we deserve?
Is this all that we are?
Only this, nothing more?
Crumbling, all of us
In the sea, into dust?
(We learn, though we stumble
Not through paths unchosen
We learn from upheaval
Not through words and tokens
We lack for examples
Not for lofty sermons
We learn, though we stumble
