i am not a woman but i consider them often as i am not a man but i consider them often as i am not anything really but something yet unforsaken a bit off, but not not-on, i am gorgeous in the evening to those who, loving me speak words of nourishment that i save in old water bottles in case we're later drying out i am breathtaken by life often at poor moments when life ought to be loathed and i am so in Love with You but sometimes i have cried knowing You briefly here i am, so i could never be a misanthrope and in Love with all the Host of Earth no, i could never be cruel for the sake of my agony for the relief of suffering i am forlorn in good company friendly with Nature, with Time with Apathy, with Loneliness thus in good company i am forgiven my failures and hopes and so i am lovely and pitiful i am so quiet in the evening when there is no one to be unquiet beside in my bedside and the quiet of me is quite loud like the stars or the wheat fields or the savoury taste of ripe fruit i am not how i am yesterday and tomorrow i will not be how i am today but today i am present for the whole of the blessed Earth and this is all i can ever aspire to be for myself and others: i am i am not who you thought i was i know, i disappointed you but i am large and i don't always keep well despite the effort and despite the love you tried to give me i am not always open to others i am quite irredeemable when i have done sour things to you when i have betrayed you and sought comfort in others and sought to bury myself in myself but i am not lost to anyone i've known i am a certain way, surely i am sometimes definable by your love i am a small animal to you and a sombre sibling or an old lover or the closest person, your best friend, and i will always be that i am not what you love though but what your love loves in me i am not your memories of me i am not your anger at me i am not your guilt for me i am the redemption you deny i am not a god but i have been visited by them when most myself i have been larger than trees, kin to the moon i am the sum of all the suffering you felt last week before i called i am the mercy of flowers i am the mirth of moonlight i am the quiet of seasons i am the sorrow of infidelity i am the madness of romance i am the hate you feel for yourself so remember that i am the love i feel for you when you say hello to me after so many moons this is not who i am, but how: i am the love you will never find i am the hate you will never deserve i am for You; i am You, but i am not even here i am already waiting for you to know me again
— written for You.