The Other Person

It’s a statement of error if i said I Love You. 

Because how dare i, whom of lowly estate contain a feeling as graceful and transforming as Love, and yet still remain the same. 

Sanity is not the word that comes to mind when i think of you

Obsession is not an emotion i know the absence of 

And yet I cannot claim to Love you.

For what is Love?

Is it calling you incessantly 

Putting you first?

Staying up all night to hear your voice?

Is it worrying for your health and safety?

What really is love if not chaos?

And yet my chaos cannot be love

It is but an undignified expression of my inexperience 

Of my unworthiness 

Of my thievery. 

It is a statement and not an emotion if i said I Love You

But i do

And the only reason i am second guessing my emotions is because you have made my love shameful 

You have made my feelings disgraceful 

Ridiculed it, laughed and tossed it away

Made me crazy for it. 

Defined it as everything but what it is.

Should love be contained in dignity and grace?

Should love wear heels and walk on stills?

Should love smile demurely and bow her head in humility?

Should love stay still, quiet while you speak?

Should love bleed just to make your wine redder?

Should love die just to make you more alive?

I love you

But you don’t 

And you have convinced me, almost, that my love need not be called as such.

I love you 

Or i did

Because i finally found my vision from underneath your eyes

I found my voice from behind your noise

I found my feet from your shoes.

Complete now that i am, i know that it is a statement of error when i say I Love You

Because i don’t.