the ethos of my love

forgive me

for i know not how to love

at least not the way poems tell you it should be done

or the feel-good hollywood way

all i can say is i’m sorry

to myself

for not finding this out sooner

the cat’s clawed its way out of the bag

spilling missiles 

of false selves and fragile egos

and as far as the ethos of my love goes

well,

it goes like this

i’ll always have my hands clenched in fists

and my sneakers on

fight

or 

flight

fight 

and 

flight

doesn’t matter how right it feels

my heels are already halfway to hesitation

i haven’t figured out how to love you 

without losing me

i wish i could love less

give less

want less

be less

but regardless

of this folly

i am

this

i am more

i want more

i deserve more

i give more than any woman in her right mind ever would

mind you

who said anything about a right mind?

the bottom line is

i love

and when i love, 

i love with all i’ve got

i pull out all the stops

and then some

i come undone before the fat lady’s sung

i become the disappearing woman in act two

until all that’s left is the “you” in this equation

can you blame me though?

for holding on this tight?

for not being able to sleep at night without touch?

when you think about the kind of love i’ve never known,

do you really think I’m asking for too much?

when every tender moment i’ve ever felt 

has slipped like grains of sand

through the hands of innocence

when every grown up who should’ve left a blueprint

of how this is supposed to unfurl

left me to bleed silent prayers

only to wake with swollen eyes and fear-soaked curls

i’m asking you hear me

to hold my hand and guide back to my path

and when i’m unable to tell myself the truth

i’m leaving that to you

to whisper

hope

and

solitude

remind me

this isn’t about 

you

that the only way out

is the way i came in

and if i’m ever to love

it 

must

start

from

within