You deserve to be loved gently.
I know you carry things around that you don’t speak about-
It sits in the tension of your shoulders that only relax when your in my arms,
In the brief moments when neither of us speak but the quiet says it all.
I see the heaviness of it in your eyes sometimes when I ask a question-
Conflict crossing through soft blue hues as you try to decide how to answer without it opening old wounds,
The man who stepped into my life only a few months after I watched my dad die-
Has trauma of his own.
But you carry it gracefully-
Most people wouldn’t notice unless they were looking for it,
You always appear in a casual gentleness that screams steady but I see it.
I felt it in the brief exhale when your head hit my chest.
“You don’t have to carry it alone. Not with me. Not if you don’t want to.” I’d said-
And then I became a safe space for you-
because you deserve to be loved gently, too
