Maybe

If I could
I’d paint you a sky
low enough to reach.

A sky without distance.

Why?

I don’t know.

Maybe because I’ve spent
an embarrassing amount of my life
making myself comfortable
inside things that weren’t good for me.

Love, especially.

The kind that asks you
to become smaller
so it can stay.

The kind you keep calling love
because you honestly don’t know
what else to call
the thing you can’t leave.

Maybe that’s why
I wanted the sky so low.

Not because I wanted to reach you.

Or maybe I did.

I don’t know.

Maybe I just wanted
for once
something I loved
to be close enough
that reaching for it
didn’t hurt.

And maybe that’s the whole point.

Maybe I’ve spent too much of my life
loving things
that required me
to hurt myself
just to get close.