For you I would start running.
Tie up my laces and just go.
I would run, and run, and run,
until the best version of me
is the only one you'll ever get to know.
I say "you" on purpose.
Because for me that won't ever be true.
I've lived through every version,
but not all will live with you.
Not all will be obvious.
Some I taught to be quiet,
because I didn't quite like
what they had to say.
So some only write.
Some still hate to be read.
Some look at me like I hold back
some answers that they need.
Maybe I do.
But not out of hate.
It's because I don't like to see them settle,
because they're afraid of being too late.
Afraid of love leaving.
Love may decide to leave.
Afraid of love staying.
Love will become whatever you believe.
Some versions of me are hidden.
Stuffed away in an old drawer.
I couldn't bring myself to get rid of them,
when I wasn't like them anymore.
For you I would open the drawer.
No matter how painful it may be.
Because I want you to know every version
that have ever existed of me.
For you I would love them harder.
I would keep them safe and unharmed.
I would open the drawer slowly
so as to not cause them to be alarmed.
I would speak to them softly.
I would allow them to finally speak.
I would unlearn every opinion
that made me think that they were weak.
Because for you I would stop running.
I would learn to love the worst that I've been.
For you I would step back and let some
"lesser" version of me get to win.
"The unloveable"
"The annoying"
"The too much, way too soon"
"The met people in the morning and of course,
scared them away by the afternoon."
"The stupid"
"The imposter"
"The doesn't deserve to be"
"The wishes her heart away,
for some future version."
That's me.
"The dramatic"
"The confusing"
"The always think she's second best"
"The one who shakes from her anxiety"
"The one who works until she's forced to rest."
For you I would start walking.
Every version of me in hand.
Then I would have to sit down.
Because some versions,
I still can't stand.
