You mentioned,
not liking labels,
And I swallowed the urge to whisper

You told me
How pretty I am
And I bit my lip to stop,
The tears.

You ask me what I’m thinking
And listen when
I tell you,

You say my passion is like a beauty mark on my soul,
My mind is a labyrinth,
And you haven’t learned yet,
That I used to wear my heart on my sleeve.

There is a me that you don’t know.
There is a man, that you would hate.
And I am so sorry,
That you pay for his sins,
Even though he is far, far less, than

There is a story you should know.
He is the one who told me,
Labels are only for lovers and
Monogamy is for children.

He is the one who urged to friends that I
Was not enough for him,
Too “unconventional”
As if I, a rose born in concrete, could ever be conventional.

He is the one who made me wish to die,
On all the days I could have been living
He is the one who made me give up on love,
The one who asked me to settle.

He is the one who makes me scared when you touch my stomach
The one who makes my heart skip town when you whisper commitment
The one who makes me scared to speak.
I swallow my words,
because I am so tired of him stealing them from my lips.

I wonder if you ever get afraid that I’ll go back to him
If you ever think that I still love him,
Or, heaven forbid,
That he is better than you.

The truth
Is that I am still learning how to speak again.
But like a child, learning their first words,
Once I learn,
You will not shut me up.

And that’s the thing about you,
As you hang loosely on my tongue,
The thing that marvels me the most,
Why, on Earth, do you water my gardens instead of burning the forest?

I saw once that after the wildfires of California,
Some branches still remain.
They blossom, despite being surrounded by ash.

So while I watch you tend to the body of a woman who is,
Right now,
Filled with little but coal,
I need you to know that I am a girl dying to blossom.
I am a girl who will one day worship you,
For putting yourself on the cross,
Meant for another man.

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