I still love you.
In this push and pull,
The conflict that is us,
In me trying to conquer you,
You coming to terms with us,
And me and you against them. I still love you.
It’s not perfect,
By no means is it always that beautiful thing that,
Pulled your headphones off and made me write those words that time,
It’s not new anymore,
It doesn’t sparkle anymore like it did that first time I dared claim your lips.
But I still find me feeling that high every once in a while because I still love you.
Sometimes we forget,
To be that girl and that boy touching nothing but our hands,
Saying nothing but what is passed between two sets of eyes locked.
We forget to be that kind of intimate,
Or maybe we just can’t find the time after the world has made us battle weary.
But I sometimes feel that kind of warm because,
You still remember to lay your head on my breast and just listen to my heart,
Or cradle me without saying words to ignite my tempest.
You still love me.
It can be a dangerous thing,
You and me and all of where we’ve been,
Allies and adversaries, do you remember?
All that anger and hate and passion and longing,
And occasionally old memories hurt more than new cuts,
Baby, I hated to hate you and I still do, because I love you.
And you take it, my angry, hateful, hurtful me,
Sometimes even when undeserving.
You let my demons ravage you and you soothe me back to something kinda human.
You still love me through my shit.
I still love you,
And we are still together,
Despite using words like switchblades,
And forgetting to give each other accolades,
And not knowing when us is me and you and none of them at all,
Despite getting caught up in who we want to be for them,
And losing who we should be for us.
I still love you.
Still, love the way you love me.
Still, love how we love.