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Does it kill you too?
Does it kill you to know that I've spent my entire adult life loving you without knowing the meaning of the words?
Does it kill you to know that loving me, means never getting to love your country again?
Does it kill you to know that I have always been the thing waiting for you when you close your eyes, even if it scared me?
Does it kill you when you think about all the times I could have said something more and changed the path of our hearts?
Because it used to kill me. And then you whispered love into my neck and kissed me like I was salvation and hope in a mortal body.
Not anymore.
Not anymore because this time, you've shown me that you're willing to reach back when I reach forward.
Not anymore, because I'm pretty sure that our hearts beat countermeasure to each other now, filling our silences with sound.
Not anymore, because when I speak about my weaknesses, all you hear are the parts of me that make me stronger.
Not anymore, because you told me to tell you in my own language, despite knowing that I might never be able to say them in yours.
Never again, because sometimes, I'm afraid of the dark parts of my heart, but you bring me into the sunlight when you smile at me.