When I Tell You

Poetry by Abigail Voigt

Honorable Mention for College Poetry - 2019 Met Awards

When I tell you “I love you,” it won’t sound like “I love you.”

When I tell you “I love you,” it will be in a glance I give you to make sure you are okay, only to find that you’ve fallen asleep next to me and “I love you” will be the gentle smile on my face because honestly I’m just thankful you can sleep.

When I tell you “I love you,” it will sound very similar to “did you eat?” and it will annoy you continuously for the next hour until you have succeeded to eat something, anything.

When I tell you “I love you,” it will be in the footsteps that follow you out of the slammed door and in the hands that I place on your back as I make sure you know you are wanted.

When I tell you “I love you,” it will look like fidgety hands and shifty eyes as I tell you the honest, uncomfortable truth that you have tried to ignore for so long.

“I love you” will sound like jokes on a bad day and stupid laughter at 5am after a long night of keeping you away from your thoughts.

It will look like a messed-up schedule. “I love you” will make me an hour late just so that you can tell me your fears and I can tell them to go away.

“I love you” will mess me up. It will leave me with tired eyes, annoyed friends, hurt feelings, and a bad reputation with time.

But, friend, you are worth that. You are worth everything.

Please though,

I beg that you tell me “I love you” too.