I. Passersby
I love.
But is love
had
when
one
gives
and
It seems
the other
never takes
at all?
I love.
It stays
and gets
in
the
way
of
passersby.
II. Chbosky
In Wallflower,
I remember reading:
“We accept the love
we think
we deserve.”
And I know
I deserve
reciprocity.
III. Clean
I dream
of something
real.
Clean.
Transparent.
Honest.
True.
With no
hidden meaning.
May it live
in this plane.
A love
free
of past
harms—
present,
but not tense.
Safe
in my arms.
So it may be
in the arms
of whomever,
with love,
without
an arsenal.
Authors Note: These poems were written before I understood a situation in full. Once I had more context, it felt unfair and unnatural to leave them as they were. These versions keep the emotional truth of what I felt at the time while allowing more room for clarity, accountability, and what I understand now.