I Want Your Messy Love


I want your mess. Give me your fears, your failures, your imperfections. Place it in my hands, all the precious cargo that is so profoundly heavy within you. Give me your burdens, your baggage, your sadness; give me the magic you learned to hide so well. I promise to help you carry the weight of it; the stories, the difficult journeys that nobody ever clapped for. Give me the parts of you that are tucked away so deep, deemed insignificant by your own unsettled mind. You see, I do not just crave your bright smile and sun-filled eyes. I want your sadness, your scars, your damage. Give me your fragments, your ruins, every piece of debris you’ve cast aside. I will explore all of the rooms in your mind, every dust-filled crack and crevice. The broken wood beams and loose doorknobs, the places that need just a little more tenderness and care. Give it all to me; I will only love you more fiercely as you expose all the dark corners and abandoned spaces. I will kiss your scars, I will love your chaos. I will hold you when all the words you cannot say spill out in big, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. And when I look at you, when I look into your watery baby blues, I swear I never believed that a love like this could belong to me, to us. What could be stronger than the pull of the universe in this very moment? This love is swimming through my veins and making itself right at home, as if it has always belonged there; as if you have always belonged right here beside me. Release every strand of your tightly woven existence, it is threatening to burst at the seams. Show me your untamed soul; let’s exchange war-stories, battle wounds no one else can see. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours first, but I have to ask you this: how long do you want to be loved? Because forever and a day still wouldn’t be enough for me.