How high can you be lifted
By the slight drafts of hope
I’m able to offer?
By my Peter Pan ideals
And the optimism of a child
Who has risen above cynicism?
In all of my pseudo-wisdom,
I can not even think to carry you
Farther than your wings will fly
Or where your will dares to tread
No matter how badly I want to...
Love isn’t supposed to hurt
When expressed.
It should heal and uplift,
Far beyond the reaches
Of pain and madness.
To hide love is to hold back tears,
Even when the feelings are well known,
Shared as deeply by the one it is felt for...
How high can you be lifted
By the dreams and wishes
We hold so precious?
By the words of a hopeless romantic
Or the strength of a woman
Who has faced her own fear of change?
In my newly completed soul,
I can not find the means to ease
The torment of losing what is familiar
Or the thought of moving on
No matter how badly I want to...
Love isn’t supposed to ache,
Except in the distance when
Desire and passion can scarcely
Be contained in the absence
Of physical contact.
To hide love is to die a little
With every breath
Until we can bring ourselves
Out of the shadows and back
Into the light...
How high can you be lifted
By me…?
-L.C., 2002
