Member Poem

More Than Words
Kate I. Foley

You speak of second chances,
first glances,
redemption and resurrection,
blissfully unaware:
I'm not on my second chance,
but my third, my fourth.
Dealt a bad hand over and
over and
over,
I'll flash a smile,
bluff my way past your well-meaning questions,
hold these cards close to my chest to protect
you from myself.
I'm okay.

Lips tugging,
shoulders shrugging.
I don't know what you want from me,
But I want you.
You, you, you.
From waves of golden hair fine enough to have been
spun from straw in a fairytale;
To eyes that pierce my soul and make me
feel human;
To a laugh that is music itself,
Beethoven's envy,
my favorite song to
sing myself to sleep.
I don't deserve you.

And yet you've borrowed my voice,
transformed it into a piece of art
I no longer recognize.
Twisting my tone, my every phrase,
Purposely misunderstanding with naive optimism,
Giving me hope I haven't earned.
You've turned yourself into a mirror,
desperate and delusional,
don't you see how I see you?
The words lodge
in my throat,
my words.
They are nothing without
a voice to string them through the air,
dangle them where you can see. I am broken.
Don't you know what I've done?
To you, there's still hoping.
You think you'll be the one to
fix this. We can fix this.

Three syllables are so heavy.
I can't take any more weight on these
aching shoulders. Let me tell you without
words. Let me brush the back of your hand with
my fingertips. Let me tell you with
a smile. Let me drive while you sleep
passenger side. Let me hold you close when
night comes.
Just for a moment.
Only for a moment.
Long enough to tell myself that
maybe, I could
deserve you one day.
Long enough to convince myself that
one day I will be able to carry those words,
and it will be beautiful.

***

Prior publication: The Lantern (Ursinus College, 2019-2020)