If You Get to Love Him

If you get to love him

Love him well for me

If you’re the woman that he finally lets in:

Give him a grin

whenever you see him

So he knows

your heart glows

Just for him

Please, he’s gotta know.

If you get to love him

Paint his soul for him

On a canvas, so he sees it.

Make it big

And vibrant colors, his colors

Create that for him

If you’re enough to be the one who loves him

Touch him

every moment that you can

Hold his hand

Breathe in to him

When you stand next to him,

Let him see

How safe it feels: just to be.

A safety your soul craves intrinsically

From you, Let him see:

It’s him who does this to me

I mean thee

Just he

Show how your breathing increases

And your worry just ceases.

That he makes it just easy

To be

Happy

Which is hard for you.

If you get to be the one that loves him

Love him, just like that for me.

For he deserves to be loved so beautifully

Even if he doesn’t want it from me.

I need him to be loved wholly, fully.

You go take care of him

And I will take care of me.

Because to not be loved back is painful stain

It’s brutal to heal.

For real

And I don’t want that for him.

You damn well better really love him

And you better god damn do it properly.

He is not your entitled investment property.

And don’t be dull

At least he unique enough to earn his pull

Please God don’t be dull

My nightmare: you’re a prototype lemming birthed from some societal “cool-girl” cesspool

Please don’t be that fool.

Who tricked him in to loving you

By manipulating what you show of you.

That’s the worst thing you could do.

He doesn’t deserve that from you

For he is everything lovely

…who didn’t love me

But at least I was me

Granted, he took for granted, what he was granted.

But, I know, some of me planted

Rooted really

My expression: intensity laced with just silly

I’m a face, that’s a tattooed space

Reflected in the kaleidoscopes of his enchanted stare

I hope you’re aware

I’ll always be there

Because no one does love better than me.

My adverb is passionately

The epitome

A bit of a mythical being

Somewhat like a siren is the song I sing

My voice will always echo through his entire being

Even when he’s not listening

My melody rings

Maims him in with sporadic pings

My Deep seat soul stings

I’m his reverberating signet ring

The sacred secret he keeps

Because I saved him something deep

He knows

I’ll haunt all his romantic storylines

He’ll see signs

And flashes of our unchosen timelines

Where’s he lives in nirvana sublime

He’ll have visions of our shared heartbeats from time to time

When our frozen oracle melts him unblind

And it will stop him breathing fine, into the depths of his mind

And He’ll always toggle with regret and confusing soul pangs

Of places in him that I’ll always have reign

And will always remain

I’m his soul stain

But whatever it was: he didn’t show it to me.

But, its reality reflects in my poetry

But he knows

That I know

Which is why he goes

And to you he won’t ever show

Because you get to be the one that loves him

But I am made of him, and he is made of me

You get the love, but I get something you’ll never see

That I’ll wrap up cryptic in my poetry.

A love letter of me.

And you might not believe it, but it’s the best place to be.

Because us three

You, me and he

We all love parts of something that was created by and is actually me

My alchemy