Everything is in Relation to Growth

-I apologise, this is a mess.

["Alas, I cannot travel
To a love I have so deep
Or sleep too close beside
A love I want to keep." - Leonard Cohen]

I met someone who believed sex was art,
Revealed the fleshy colours and proportion all wrong:
Said 'your body is too tainted, through scars I cannot see',
Encouraged me to remember a brilliant little song.

Cohen was a man just like any other,
Competing for his dignity, fighting to remain,
Songs too precious to recreate, to sing,
Instead of voice, learned joy is what leaks the from veins.

Two people that used to know each other
Fell in through the cracks in the street.
Exchanging silly words like 'I miss yous',
Awkward as seventh graders, staring at their feet.

Maybe that could be you and I given twenty years,
My scars will be all dried up, I'll have even more to show.
In the big city you'll pretend to have forgotten: I'll remember,
Because I miss you now, I can't comprehend how much it will grow.
(One day, too soon, you'll be a person I only used to know.)