what if I told you

what if I told you
in words that were so perfect
that they betrayed every feeling I had

for you

to you

not
what I would want to say,
or what I would want you to believe -
but all of it, with everything bad! all
my doubts, and my certainties: all
the thoughts that scream, oh! God,
hell, this
could not work out anyway.

it's too far to reach

could it?


What if I said

all of it. All of that. All
the bad, swimming underneath
plus all the ways that you make me feel
better than I've ever been, but not
better than I am

all the ways that I want you, too

and the ways that I wish you were mine,
despite knowing you almost certainly don't deserve
the kind of crap you'd be in for,

if only I could tell
you
in such perfect words
that you would somehow know in an instant,
and be sure.

I don't even know what you'd be sure of.

You would be sure
of everything
that those words add up to.

You would take it all in, and tell what it's worth:
every side of my mind, where you're concerned

you would know what to put last
and what comes first