Not much to ask, not much to it really.

You made a commitment the day you heard about me.

You were mine the day we met. It was love at first sight.

Big hands that held me tight.

Callused and rough on my smooth soft skin. Just how it’s supposed to be.

Whats supposed to be my first love, followed the path of my first heart break…

Except it wasn’t supposed to come from you.

I love you and always will. 

You didn’t choose me when I wasn’t even yours to choose. 

Physical distance has only added to the emotional.

A space I tried to close. A space you made bigger. A space I chased for.

Turned away and lost sight of everything.

You can pick your partner, wife, husband, and friends…

not your family. Not your father, not your daughter. 

Your’s is vulnerable and gentle.

Yours is at home, yours is home.

Your’s knows you and makes an effort to know you.

Your’s is everything I wish mine was… 

Your’s is everything I know mine can be…

Mine is lost and broken. 

Mine refuses help.

Mine loves me but doesn’t tell me. 

Mine, checked out. 6 years ago. 

Leaving me in question,

what does it mean to be mine?