Thousands

If you make a thousand paper cranes, supposedly you are granted a wish. I haven’t made a thousand paper cranes but Ive admired the one on your arm hundreds of thousands of times. I could tell you which drop of ink is my favorite. I could tell you a thousand words but I stay silent hoping one day thousands of words rush out of your mouth. In my daydreams those thousands of words explain to me why I was wrong. A thousand reasons why you’ve always loved me. A thousand reasons why you didn’t tell me sooner. A thousand reasons why I should have held on longer. A thousand reasons why I should have never even tried to replace you despite the fact that what I feel is seemingly unrequited. But those thousands of words are far from your lips. Even when our lips meet. Because when I kiss you I taste the liquor. When I kiss you I taste your insecurities. When I kiss you I feel jealous of everyone whose ever kissed you before. When I kiss you I’m happy. When I kiss you I’m sad. When I kiss you everything makes sense. And when I kiss you nothing makes sense. When I kiss you a thousand things go through my head. A thousand things like how it would feel to be pressed against you. How it would feel to have your arm around me. How it would feel to have you brush hair out of my eyes. How it would feel to have your hand on my hip. The truth is I’ve loved you a thousand times in a thousand different ways. I’m not sure if I can feel that way about anyone else. The first time I loved you like this I didn’t hide it I let it all out in the open because perhaps you felt the same but then I got to know the real you and I understood. What you need isn’t a thousand hugs and a hand to hold. What you need is a thousand shots to put some hair on your chest. In a world of testosterone and short hair cuts to try to reveal the real you. I see it I do. But you want the world to see it and I want to write you a thousand support letters on the wings of a thousand paper cranes. Because I would give you that wish if it meant you were happy.