Darling.

Darling. if I could tell you,

Why love for me would never do.

I would tell you all about my fears and griefs,

and describe the tide of insecurities.

I would list for you all my little tricks,

And record my bouts of jealous shrieks.

I would take apart my possessiveness,

To give your muse a summer’s dress.

I would make little pictures of my sins,

And put them in labelled biscuit tins.

I would rhyme all your adjectives,

With details of my ugly, gory bits.

I would tell you about everything else,

But you would still give me some grace.

Darling, if I could tell you,

Why love for me would never do.

Darling, even if I would tell you,

You would love me just the same.

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One comment

  1. Pingback: I wish I could…

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