Atticus

To love you is not my promise

but my fate—

to burn for you

until I can burn no more.

When I saw you first, it took

every ounce of me not to kiss you.

When I saw you laugh, it took

every ounce of me not to love you.

And when I saw your soul, it took every ounce of me.

Does the sun promise to shine?

No, but it will—

even behind the darkest clouds,

and no promise

will make it shine longer or brighter

for that is its fate,

to burn until it can burn no more.

To love you is not my promise

but my fate—

to burn for you

until I can burn no more.

Obsession is not love,

infatuation is not love,

when someone ignores you

or treats you poorly, carelessly,

or with indifference

that’s not love—

that’s a lack of love,

for yourself, for trying to fill

your missing pieces with theirs

but when someone is whole

and you are whole

and you act in kindness and benevolence, vulnerability

through strength,

love becomes an exchange

with another person—

and that is

its truest form.

“I don’t believe in magic,”

the young boy said,

and the old man smiled,

“You will, when you see her.”

took her hand,

and my heart beat fast

as her warmth swallowed me up.

A thousand times I’d run this trail

but not with her.

Her eyes were all that young love should be,

and they lit me up

in every look.

We lay in shooting skies

and freckled stars, and

promised our love would last forever—

and so in our forever

it would

there in a castle atop of Blueberry Hill,

with silver moon rivers

and sailing ships.

There was a whole magnificent soul

burning brightly behind her “shy.”

I promised

to kiss her

a million times

before I died,

fifty a day

for the rest of my life—

so when I was gone

she could smile

knowing

there wasn’t a place

on her I missed.

She didn’t want love,

she wanted to be loved—

and that

was entirely different.

world is made up of

too many girls

wondering

if they are pretty

and too many boys

too shy to tell them.