Matching Jackets

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that with you

I was the person I hated.

The person who pushes buttons

And giggles to see the other light up.

I’m sorry I became a child

With fists full of insults

Ready to bring down something great.

But I didn’t know how to say it.

How to tell you what you meant.

To say the words that I swore I’d never say again.

Never mean again.

Never express that feeling again

Because I’ve seen too many good women get crushed by those words.

But I have to say it now.

I love you.

I don’t love you romantically like I used to.

I love who you are.

The grumbling galloping garage band poet.

Because I’ve been  trying to find that person in myself for so long

That when I found you I got lost a little bit.

I wanted to be little you.

To do the things you do.

Immitation is the highest form of flattery.

But I know now who I am.

I am not a garage band poet.

I am the young professional with fleeting thoughts and overused imagery.

That doesn’t make my dreams any less important than yours

That doesn’t make me any less than you

But I know now who I am.

But I still love who you are.

The way you pull it off so effortlessly.

I got so angry

Got so twisted up inside because

I knew I would never pull it off the way you did.

So I’m sorry for the way I acted.

Sorry I couldn’t tell you.

Still can’t say it to your face.

You and I, my friend,

Are cut from different cloth

But I like to think we match.