Poetry Archive

We trade the shadows we have kept, the wounds that never seem to sleep. Through whispered nights our watch is set - we guard the pain the other keeps. You call it friendship. I feel it as love. We share the sparks on lighter days, the jokes that chase the dark away. We walk together, steady pace, and bind the night with warmth of play. You call it friendship. I live it as love. My hand has steadied when you shake, your voice has pulled me back from fire. And when you fall, for my own sake, I lift you higher - lift you higher. You call it friendship. I need it as love. In every dawn, in every scar, the bond we weave is more than one. You name it what you think we are - but I can’t lie about what’s done. You call it friendship. I know it as love. And if one truth must still be said, beyond the names that we’ve both used, it’s more than words or paths we’ve tread - more than choice; it can’t refuse. You call this friendship. I still call it love.