When I Say “I Love You “

When I Say I Love You

When I say I love you,
It isn’t a sound.
It’s a door left open in my chest.

One day, you ask me quietly,
as if you’re afraid the words
might fall and shatter,

“If it comes to it,
whose life matters more,
yours or mine?”

I say mine.

Not proud.
Not cruel.
Just quick.

The way a man says air while drowning.
The way a match speaks
before the fire understands itself.

And I saw it land the wrong way.
I saw the door close in your eyes.

What you didn’t know is this,
My life stopped being just mine
The day you walked into it.

My life isn’t my name.
It isn’t my body.
My life is where your voice settles.

Because my life is not the years I breathe,
not the name stitched into my days.
My life is the place your shadow rests,
The way my pulse leans toward your voice.

I said mine
only because there was no other word
for you.