I’m not sorry, for liking you.
Maybe a little more than I should.
It feels good, it feels so good;
and for the first time, I’m not running.
I’m not sorry, for remembering the feel of your lips,
our hands intertwined,
the heat of your skin.
I’m not sorry, for feeling the way I feel
when I’m with you.
Like coming home;
like pieces falling into place.
I’m not sorry, for wanting you.
And maybe I even love you.
Though I’m not sure what love is,
but I want to learn, with you.
I’m not sorry, even if those moments
were make-believe,
they felt real to me.
And I chose to believe in what I feel.
I’m not sorry, even if you don’t see this as I do.
I’m thankful that I met you, that I’ve known you.
Though there so many depths
I still want to dive, into you, swim in you.
So even if this is all I might ever have…
I’m not sorry.
I’m not sorry, though things seem
kind of impossible right now.
You there; I here.
Cliched, I know.
I hate cliche, but I don’t mind.
Let’s keep taking steps, close…then closer .
I’m not sorry, that I feel so alive,
that you touched this body and it came awake.
And now I won’t shut it down
or be ashamed to feel.
I’m not sorry, that I only received.
I was timid, I had to take to know how to give.
But I’ll show you. Someday,
if we’re both lucky.
How much I’ve wanted to give back;
to kiss your dimpled smile and get so lost in your body
that I could never be found.
And tell you, “I’m not sorry.”