Careful

i'm always running into things and into you and into love. careful, he says. don't trip yourself up again.

when i walk down flights of stairs they change as i walk. i end up taking stairs very fast so i don't fall. don't look, it makes more sense staring straight ahead. time failed me first and now gravity has left too.

sometimes i'll be standing or walking and suddenly feel like i'm standing on an angle. bent forward or backward. so i adjust my weight to my perception of gravity and end up stumbling and nearly falling. sometimes i do fall.

if this happens on the stairs i could get really hurt. sometimes it does. but for some reason i still haven't fallen backwards down stairs no matter how many times i have leaned that way.

angels watching over you, he says. he tells me i'm not sick, i'm a lazy prophet. he says to shape up and that things will get better.

you want me to be careful. you want me to be so careful that i'll never hear what you need. and i hate to break it to you, but what i need most is to be yours, to be yours, to be there for you like you are here for me.

i try to be careful. but i'm not made of glass. allow me to love you, and love me right back.