Building a Home, Together
I am not your first love
and you are not mine.
I am not your first heartbreak
and you are not my first poem.
I am not the person you once thought you would spend life with
and you are not the one I saw coming.
We both have loved with scars,
with burnt marks on our backs,
yet when we met it’s as if we finally believed that love could exist
without painful permanence
but rather, a handful of faith and forever.
Our love came unannounced like a weather change,
and I’ve never loved dancing in the rain as much
until we stopped to do so in the middle of the streets.
This love is unprecedented by our previous ones.
We kiss with tenderness and love with forgiveness,
and even with some scabs we used to pick onand the wounds purposely left opened,
we embrace it with open arms.
I will love you dry of all your nightmares
and you will love me despite my shame.
I will tear myself open to let you in
if you so happen to try to break down these walls.
Our hands intertwine perfectly
like puzzle pieces that are meant to fit together
on the first try.
Our lips touch,
the softest and gentle graze between two lovers
who make every time feel like the first time.
Our legs tangle
like vines around a tree,
holding on tightly without suffocation.
And I will not be afraid of burning too brightly.
or fear loving too hard or being too much.
And you will never be scared of not being good enough,
for you’re more beautiful in my eyes than you’ll ever see.
After all this time of waiting and hoping for the right person,
you are the one I will waste my forevers on.
It is in your arms I learned to not search for a home,
but how to build one together.
Originally published on Thought Catalog.