One Hundred Seventy

There are many times that I've lit up a dark winters room--a bright blast of unstopable energy bursting like afternoon sunshine through an open summer window. I've given talks that have made tears stop and reverse their way up a sad alcoholic's face--talks that pulled the edges of his lips up and into a smile as the pain retreated back into the brightening darkness of his eyes. I've brought hope to the helpless, and help to the hopeless. I've been strong and giving, but with you, all I've ever brought of late is a pain in the ass, a fucking wet jealous blanket that would rather smother your day with questions about who and why, then he would to just lay back and listen to the birds song of your voice. I'm tired of it. I'm sick of bringing you down--catering to the insecure boy that resides in my ego. I want to be your safe place, a light to you--a strong comforting lantern on a lost at sea evening. I want to, I really do, and if you want it bad enough, I hear anyone can do it. I know I can. I really know I can. All I ever want to be from now on, is a love to you...