An apology

You sit there quietly,
holding storms behind your eyes,
while I, wrapped up in my own weather,
forget to ask if you're cold too.

I speak of my worries,
my days, my doubts,
and sometimes you nod,
smiling gently, like the rain
doesn't fall on you as well.

And I hate that,
that I let my world
cast shadows on yours,
when you are light.
When you are all the soft
and golden things
this world doesn't have enough of.

You deserve a love
that sees your quiet aching,
that listens for the words
you don’t say out loud.
Not this, this half-care I give
when I’m too full of myself
to notice you're fading.

You're a beautiful soul,
not made for neglect,
and I’m sorry.
Not just in words,
but in the vow I now make
to show up more gently,
to care with both hands,
to step outside my skin
and meet you in yours.

Because you deserve that.
Because you deserve more.
Because you are you.