Mislead

You see there is distance and cologne

and polish and ice cream

and crying and wishing,

skyping and giggles,

lame puns, insensitivity, blankets, and burgers.

Starbucks and Buble',

church, car rides, holding, and the holiday.

There was this vail of illusion

where we both ties up loose ends 

and unknotted the tattered edges.

We sat and we stood and we breathed.

The cologne is what I remember the most.

I smelled it from a passing stranger and almost cried.

Your lanky arms; your coffee stained car.

The notes you let me read and the soul my soul was allowed to see.

Every minute, every morning, a text, a smile, an I love you.

It is two a.m. and you're still there in the doorway

not wanting to leave, but an early shift beckons. 

Letting go isn't an option, yet is forced upon.

An I love you again falls from your lips.

So mistaken

Intentions and wanting

and using and needing 

and lying and hiding.

Taken away, 

Bordwalk beneath my feet.

My heart, your hand,

discounted and understood.

You gave; I took.

I gave; you took.

Words exchanged, 

the layers of my heart revealed.

It is that second when you realize that in someone else's eyes

You're a woman.

A grown up.

Something lovely.

The saddest surface of this thing

is that looking back

it takes lenses and music and digging

to actually look upon us and see the positive again.

To see the flowers that once sat in a now withered state.

I'm mad and confused and hirt and bruised and overflowing

with images of you and I together.

It was all an exchange and some of my heart was given.

A dance where the layers of my walls

were chipped and clipped and trimmed 

just enough to feel something.

Why is that so hard to admit.

I hate admitting what I meant, what you felt, what we said.

You shared; I looked; I shared and you saw.

It was all there for you to see.

It's ok

and I learn and I grow and I love?

And I love.