Unshielded - A poem.

 

If I were to die,

what would you remember me by?

The way I looked?

Or: The way I felt, and why?

 

I do feel a lot.

More than one should.

And it is not as trivial

as how I simply look.

 

I feel it all.

I feel it deep.

The way that it is,

it often makes me weep.

 

I feel your warmth

when you seem all cold.

I feel the hesitation

when you're all too bold.

 

I feel your intentions

when they are totally unclear.

I feel the words

that you never utter in fear.

 

I feel the beauty of you

in places you call ugly.

I feel the dreams you dream

that need to breathe free.

 

I feel sorrows brimming,

concealed in your smile.

I feel your worries

as you pace across the aisle.

 

I feel the desires you hold

behind the curtains of your mind.

There is more in leaps and bounds.

More of you in me, as you are mine.

 

I feel more and more

as time moves forward.

I feel the songs of your heart

when silence is showered.

 

It has been my biggest boon,

also brought about my doom.

I wished and prayed

when it hurt too much.

For me to be numb

and stop feeling so much.

 

But it is what white is

to a dove.

Something indispensable,

way more than mere love.

 

If for nothing else,

remember me for this.

And no matter where I am,

my soul shall be amiss.

 

All the wounds were healed

as I shared the pain.

Let it be written in the stars,

know that I felt all your scars. 

And feeling it all was not in vain.