The Poet

It should have been Nick whom I ran to and not him, when I was looking for inspiration. It should have been Nick that I listened to instead of a broken man I had no business trying to repair. It should have been Nick I held onto for dear life, instead of walking alone in the dark on a winter’s day towards this man, in the hopes he could fill a hole that is still empty. It should have been Nick’s poetry I immersed myself in instead of lies disguised as truths. I just wanted to be naked and free, to run wild in the forest, to be protected by the spirits that live there, to have my sin be washed away by rain, to be reborn again, to know that I am well. It should have been Nick, because his truth is my truth, his beauty is my beauty, his language is my language. I was vulnerable. I let my armor down. I let him see a beauty he could not contain, could not fully receive...a kindness he does not deserve.