I Want to Drown in These Flames

Your tongue is a whip

lashing out at me

telling me that I am wrong.

Your voice is a knife

cutting into my skin

admonishing me for what I should have done.

But then there are your hands.

Your kind, loving hands.

The type of hands that know exactly where to hold me

to make me feel every ounce of your love and reassurance.

The type of hands that, when in mine,

make me feel that there is still hope in this dismal world.

The type of hands that one can just look at

and know how much good they have done.

Our fights are ugly, yes.

But after the daggers that are our words

have fallen to the ground,

our arms are there for one another,

reaching out in the dark,

groping for the contact that we know will comfort.

The fights are necessary, yes.

They help us know how to make things better.

How to ensure that we are doing everything in our power

to make our relationship the best it can be.

They are the purest form of communication.

Boundaries are abandoned

and it is a realm solely of true feelings.

They are liberating forms of expression that keep us sane.

The fights are good, yes.

They are cathartic conversations

that we know we will recover from,

because we are the only people we would like to have them with.

In the heat of the moment, they are brutal.

But we lick our wounds and move on,

because we know that the love will heal them.

Thick, like maple syrup,

the love courses through our veins.

Our hearts are leaden with the affection we have for each other.

I am gasping for a breath of air

that I do not want to take,

because the love I feel for you provides me with everything I need.

I am drowning in the untainted adoration I have for you,

but I do not want to be saved,

because the undeniable sinking is so fulfilling.

Letting myself succumb to the overwhelming depth

that is our love makes me livid

that I cannot find a way to articulate how I feel.

You know it.

You feel it too.

There are no words in the English language

that can wholly encapsulate this feeling.

None are worthy enough to express how perfect this is.

It is the reassurance that I know you comprehend this phenomenon

that keeps me going.

And then there are your eyes.

Your soft, understanding eyes.

The type of eyes that peer at me without a trace of malice,

and let me know that there will be no judgment on your part.

The type of eyes that make me feel less crazy,

and let me know that I am not absurd.

The type of eyes that I can trust,

and promise that they will never let me get hurt.

The heat from the flame no longer burns us,

because we have decided to love each other.

There are no pedestals,

because this is a relationship of equals.

Our ears are more important than our mouths

because we value each other's opinions.

You tell me you love me.

I am content,

because I know I can trust what you say.

I am not plagued by a fear of you lying,

because you have proven time and again

your veracity.

And then there is your laugh.

Your bubbly, animated laugh.

The type of laugh that is genuine,

and lets me know that I am still as funny as I used to be.

The type of laugh that flows effortlessly out of you,

and makes me want to do everything that I can to hear it again.

The type of laugh that makes the world more tolerable,

and removes with it the stresses of everyday life.

Compassion drives us forward

and makes the venture into the unknown a little more bearable,

because I know that I am tackling life's challenges with

the best person I could ever ask for.

I love you,

and although our words can be weapons,

you love me too.

We know this for sure,

and that is we all we need.