(This is kinda half poem, half confession, half I’m not even sure. But it works. Let me know what you think. Can you feel the love this person offers?)
I Love You
You asked me a question
so many times it’s the same
you ask if I love you
I’ll answer this time
I’ve stolen your glances
and handed you presents
and shown you about places
yet the words themselves are too much
I’ve lied to so many
acted as if tough
that the truth seems too hardy
i can’t get enough
Yet you’ve asked me
I’ve answered in my own way
in showers of flowers
and chocolates and ways
I’ve called you “My beauty,
My precious, My heart…”
Is that not enough
for you to understand some?
The simplest options
are left feeling hard
maybe because I’ve always lied
this isn’t quite enough.
You asked me a question
so many times it’s the same
you ask if I love you
I’ll answer this time
I’ve stolen your glances
and handed you presents
and shown you about places
yet the words themselves are too much
Does that explain it?
Can you quit asking?
as if I can say something more
if only a few mock questions
I haven’t felt this level of mush
I’m losing my own heart in this
I cannot seem to leave cloud nine
or find out if butterflies can calm down
Hopefully I never lose this feeling
even when times get tough
when children are begging
or our life turned out rough
Will you return
my heart felt interest?
are these feelings alone
or are they partnered?
You asked me a question
so many times it’s the same
you ask if I love you
I’ll answer this time
I’ve stolen your glances
and handed you presents
and shown you about places
yet the words themselves are too much
Recall the small times
that I offered you the world
in those moments
my words are just caught.
Your question is answered
in the curve of my smile
in the presents worthwhile
in my return calls, emails, and texts
your question is answered
in my own way of course
I may never say it
but I live it every day and that must work
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Cat Hartliebe 