You cannot bear to let love in,
And I cannot love halfway.
You have a world you cannot lose,
And I, a heart I cannot change.
The ground beneath your weary feet
Has never promised you a home.
You’ve built a life with trembling hands
And learned to bear its weight alone.
I know what failure means to you,
How much could vanish overnight.
You hold your fragile world together,
With no one there to share its weight.
But sometimes, in the quiet,
When there’s nothing left to prove,
You set your heavy burdens down
And let me see the softer side of you.
You come undone beneath my hands
And let yourself be held at last.
I gather pieces as they fall
Until the weight of living passes.
I kiss the sorrow from your face.
You close your eyes and breathe me in.
And for a moment, we belong
Where neither needs to feel afraid.
I know you cannot linger there.
The world still waits beyond the door.
And tenderness becomes a thing
You cannot risk reaching for.
So I watch you disappear
Behind the walls that keep you safe.
I understand why they were built.
But wish you didn’t need them here.
I’ve spent a lifetime being told
My affections run too deep,
That I give more than others can
And long for more than they return.
Yet love was never something
I knew how to give in parts.
I cannot offer half my soul
And call it all my heart.
I’d never ask you to give up
The future you’ve fought hard to make,
Nor wish to be the very thing
That puts your fragile world at stake.
I only want to be your peace,
A shelter from the weight you bear.
I wish that affection could come without
The fear of losing all you’ve built.
And so this is where we remain:
I cannot make myself smaller
To fit within the space
You cannot afford to give away.
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