The day you told me you loved me,
neither of us believed in love.
There was a loneliness in our relationship
that only roses could fill -
that only late night confessions could disguise -
that only “lay under the stars with me” kind of silences could
try and make it okay.
we did not understand patience.
we only knew that oranges start
to rot when they get soft
and we did not want to be soft.
we did not want to rot.
we did not want to be alone.