I'll Be There

A poem about the lengths you'd go to for someone you love.

I’ll always be there,
trapped within the thin spiderweb of dead conversations
trying to spin my way out
feeling the strands choke me,
sweet and sticky,
enjoying I more than I should.
I’ll eat through it if I have to,
even if it takes me a year,
I’ll be there.
I’ll always be just a step behind,
trying to find the exact rhythm of your step,
and match it so you can’t hear me
not that I’m following you,
but I want you to feel alone,
so that when I’m there
you’ll know the difference.
I’ll be there.
If the train is late, I’ll run along the tracks
run until the bones in my knees crack
until the slate and stone cut my feet open
and still I’ll run, fly if I can,
to get there.
I’ll be there, rain or shine
snow or tears or smiles,
I’ll still watch the emotions
fall from your face as you cry,
and I’ll catch them
paint my cheeks with your feelings
and let them soak into my skull,
so I know where you’ll be
and I can get there
just in time to hold your hand.