You loved the way you knew how.
But you did. I looked out for the signs.
I never heard you say the words to anyone.
You had never heard them either.
They had never been said to you.
You never found your voice to utter them.
You felt uncomfortable when I said that I loved you.
I didn’t care if there was silence. I knew you did too.
You felt like you were unable, that you were
Unworthy of hearing them directed at you.
You were so caught within yourself, you never
Realised how much love I had for you.
But I could never give you the love that you
Should have received when you were a little
Girl. I couldn’t heal those wounds, that deep
Silence and unthinkable violence. You tried to
Be the best that you possibly could be.
I loved you as a whole, in all of your bits
And pieces, the attention to detail, the gestures,
The way your body spoke to mine, how you embraced
Me, your generosity, the products you used and melodies
You hummed. You were lovable in so many ways but
You sabotaged yourself and just couldn’t take those
Things seriously. You longed for his presence.
You wanted to join him. He had treated you right as a child.
Maybe he had been weak, maybe he had been suffering too.
You identified with him, your agony shared the same source.
You held him close to your chest, always, he was there with you
In thought, in your memory, he took you with him, and you must
Have smiled, dressed so beautifully in that white dress that I never saw.