poems

the end of what we are

I love you.
You know I do.
But there are only so many times I can tell you I love you
Before you know what's coming.
I need you.
I'm a half on my own.
But there is only so much time I can spend without you before I realise
I can live as a half if I must.
I love you.
But I am so afraid that I don't.
When my thoughts for you twist down,
Darker and into the land of the past,
I begin to question the present.
If I were to count my words,
They would many be the same.
I am so afraid
We will run out of things to say.
I love you.
I need you.
But maybe all we are is cheap and hot, nights spent in empty 'I love you's' and 'I need you's'.
Maybe I love you and I shouldn't.
I don't want this to end,
But I don't know if it began.
The fact that these words are here-
Shows that I already doubt-
If we can carry on.
I love you.
You know I do.
But is love what I think it is?
Why is the timing wrong?